Unreal Condition
by svirna
Summary: One Harry Potter suddenly finds himself in a world where Lily has married Snape and the marauders have all led much different lives. Has he come on his own free will? Was he lured? Summoned? Is he in danger or will he put others in jeopardy? Sirius will sure get to the bottom of it. Sirius/Harry eventually but not just yet. M just in case.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

As he plopped the next round of beers on a wooden table in his favourite muggle pub, Sirius acknowledged wryly, if only to himself that he was stalling for time. Carefree moments of bonding with his three oldest friends came rare and far between in the last couple of decades or so. Remus, once their voice of reason, mischievous yet kind, had become a stoic warrior, James, after years of turbulence and adventure finally was settling down with a good witch and a child on the way. Sirius was the only one still unable to move past his marauder persona into fully fledged adulthood. His post-Hogwarts foray in the Aurorship was brought to an abrupt halt due to his constitutional inability to receive and follow orders. Fortunately he didn't need a steady day job to support himself. Having found himself the head of the Black family at twenty five, he had taken the mantel with gusto, reinstating his favourite cousin to the family ranks (and releasing belatedly her marriage portion). He'd even got himself a seat in Wizengamot but had embarrassingly little to show for his legislative efforts. His attempts to curb the more questionable of the Auror practices had been met with indifference verging on derision, and as for his werewolves' rights proposals, they'd provoked a shitstorm that led to even stricter regulations.

Moony might have never blamed him for the mess, but Sirius had certainly seen less of him ever since. When was the last time we frolicked under a fool moon, Sirius thought wistfully pushing the drinks to the other two. Too bloody long, that's for sure.

"OK, that's the last, or we'll be late," Remus said.

"Don't be such a killjoy, Rem", James admonished. "Don't you see, Sirius is in his brooding mode."

"You can brood all you like at the meeting," Remus shrugged.

"Any ideas why we are so suddenly summoned?"

"No. I only know it's not a full meeting. The Snapes are coming," he grimaced, "And Moody. And us."

"Hmm. Interesting grouping."

"Yeah. Snivellus likes coming over about as much as I like having him."

James frowned at the nickname, and Sirius had to make a conscious effort not to bristle. Ever since Evans had married the git, James refused to utter a single word to his disparagement. Why should the redhead's apparent lack of taste cast a shadow of their entire Hogwarts experience? Snivelly-baiting used to be a large part of their identity as marauders back then. A large part of what made them what they were. Friends, brothers, happy.

"I was wondering if you'd be up to spending the next full moon at the Manor, Rem?" Sirius said carefully. The werewolf had steadfastly refused offers of roof, board and employment – or charity – as he saw it, but he could be sometimes lured to spend a few days in the comfort of his friends' dwellings, should a suitable challenge be on the offer. "I've found one of my ancestors' journals and hoped to pick your brains to decipher it".

"I think Dumbledore has an assignment for me," Remus sipped his beer thoughtfully, "but perhaps it could wait until after the full moon."

"If it was one of your ancestors, you probably should start with de-cursing, rather than deciphering," James observed.

"Hey, he was likely your ancestor as well!"

"Feel free to use my curse-breaking expertise."

"Perhaps you could join us this full moon? Sort of like a belated stag-party," Sirius smirked. James young wife was adamant when it came to stag-parties. As far as she was concerned, it was a barbaric tradition, and one she'd flat-out forbade her then fiancé to follow.

"Not, if you put it like that," James smirked in return, and Sirius's heart constricted. It was pathetic, he knew, at the age of forty to seek in this seasoned adventurer with salt and pepper once unruly mane, now ruthlessly cut to near buzz, the flashes of the boy he befriended at Hogwarts. His best friend had survived what he once himself had deemed unsurvivable – the love of his life final rejection – and had reinvented himself in his new fascinating adult life. He even seemed to have found a new – and gorgeous – woman to love and spend the rest of his life with. Everyone seemed to have moved on, everyone, but Sirius. He did not desired his best friend with the same hopeless intensity he had twenty years ago, hadn't drunk himself into stupor to dull the jealous rage over the exquisite part-Veela, as he had long ago over the plucky redhead. He was past that adolescent drama, truly happy for James… It's just that he seemed to be unable to move on with his own life for some reason. None of his casual romantic liaisons seemed to matter to him even half as much as his friendships, even when all communication with James had been through infrequent owls. Merlin, he'd lived for those owls! His happiest moment in years was when James had told him about Fleur's pregnancy and asked Sirius to be the kid's godfather. He'd nearly wept then. It meant that he would have a permanent place in James's life. That James _wanted_ him in his life. He'd vowed to himself then and there to overlook Fleur's less endearing qualities and to never give her a reason to resent him. And so far he'd stuck to his vow. Speaking of which, he probably shouldn't risk her wrath by inviting James to the night-time larking about with a werewolf…

"You are in an especially brooding humour today, Padfood," James observed. "Men trouble? Women?"

"Neither. Just wonder what Dumbledore has got up his sleeve."

"Let's go and find out," James said rising from the bench.

Sirius looked about him with distaste. Truth to be told, for all his past rebelliousness he rather liked being lord of the manor. He still hated his childhood home though. He would have sold it, if it weren't for its convenience as the Order headquarters.

They usually met in the library. Sirius had moved all the portraits to the manor to ensure confidentiality. The house was probably best protected in Britain, he mused, since to all the wards and safeguards that generations of usually paranoid Blacks had put on it, Dumbledore had insisted to add the Fidelius Charm. Protected by the soul of the most powerful wizard on earth they were. Surely a comfortable thought. Even his own elves were denied an access to the building! He'd have to pick up some muggle snacks to play host. Thank Merlin, the cellars were still full to the brink with the best fire-whiskey and wine.

As Sirius arranged an impressive array of bottles on the side-board, he heard an odd whooshing sound. Whirling around he saw an intruder that appeared right in the middle of the room. Intruder?! Impossible. He was young and looked like James. Like a ghost of the James from their wild carefree marauder past. For one frozen moment all four men stood still, Sirius holding a bottle of the Ogden's Finest, Remus looking up from some fusty tome, and James frozen in the act of unwrapping some muggle delicacy. Then the boy's? young man's? eyes widened, as though it was him, not Sirius seeing a ghost, and he whispered "Sirius," in a voice full of unidentifiable emotions. Before any of them could react, the intruder's eyes shifted towards the other two, and his expression changed from wonder to fury. With a movement so fast, Sirius could barely register it; James's look-alike whipped out his wand and disarmed his doppelganger.

That had the effect of rousing the other two out of their stupor, but the boy seemed to have no trouble blocking their volley of curses. James recklessly tried to tackle the intruder without a wand, but was thrown nearly five feet by an expert Impediata, even as the boy blocked Sirius's stunner, and sidestepped Remus's body-bind.

"Send a Patronus," James called desperately. "They'll be here any moment now!"

The boy's emerald eyes narrowed at this, and he intensified the attacks sending, Sirius noted, non-verbal curses with James's wand as well, as with his own. Sirius had to admit that the level of skill and power behind the spells were unnerving. And to add insult to injury James's wand seemed to work just fine for the boy. As Sirius tried to signal Remus to cover him so that he could send a Patronus, the intruder used the slight diversion to finally hit the werewolf with a stunner. Confused and enraged past reason Sirius swiftly retaliated by aiming one of nastier curses in his repertoire at the boy. Only to watch helplessly as it glanced off the intruder's formidable shield and careened right at Lily Snape as she entered the library, her husband holding the door for her courteously.

Three desperate "No!" rang in the Black library, on of them, Sirius was stunned to realise belonged to the intruder. Before anyone could do anything, James's look-alike who was closest to Lily thrown himself bodily between the redhead and Sirius's curse. Next moment he was a helpless heap on the library floor, his paralysed body convulsing in what Sirius knew must have been extremely painful tremors.

Next few minutes ranked among the most uncomfortable in Sirius's life. Which was saying something. Dumbledore arriving with Moody in tow mere seconds after the fray listened to their jumbled reports and after a few moments of deliberation left again promising to come back presently. None of them knew what to think of that. The whole episode shouldn't have been possible, not with Dumbledore as their keeper. Sirius couldn't remember the last time when he was this unnerved. Perhaps soon after Lily's marriage, when James announced that he'd accepted the offer from Gringott's and would be leaving for Mexico? Sirius's universe had lost its anchor that day. Still he could see his friend's rationale. This though… It was just incomprehensible.

"Sirius," Lily called out. "Stop hurting him. Whoever he might be, _we_ are not Death Eaters."

"Fine," he muttered a counter-curse, even as Remus cast Incarcerus. The boy did not utter a sound, his face an impassive mask, his emerald eyes hooded. Emerald eyes? Sirius looked sideways at James. His friend looked as stunned as he felt. That boy, the intruder, he was an image of James and had Lily's eyes. Sirius glanced at Snape. The git must have seen it too, since he looked like he was going to be sick. Suddenly the Slytherin's face contorted with fury. He whipped out his wand and cast a series of spells that should have exposed a glamour or any other disguise.

"Look at me", he snarled nearly jamming his wand into the boy's eye. "legilimens!"

But the intruder squeezed his eyes shut, and judging by his expertly blanked expression drew up his mental shields as well.

"Butt out," he muttered, "I am not fifteen anymore."

Before anyone could react, Dumbledore re-entered the scene holding a couple of silver instruments Sirius had seen in his office as a boy.

"Good day," the Headmaster said cheerfully, "I see that you are conscious again. Would you mind introducing yourself?"

"You mean you don't know whose house you've invaded?" the boy countered.

"I don't remember selling you _my_ house, so answer the question," Sirius put in.

"Seems like we can't agree on the basics," the intruder observed noncommittally. "Not much point in observing niceties then."

"Oh, I disagree," Dumbledore said lightly. "Good manners are never amiss, I find."

"You are currently holding me prisoner under my own roof," the boy observed. "Surely, it counts a breach of propriety."

"It would be, if it were _your_ roof," Sirius snarled.

The boy looked thoughtfully around the room.

"Fine," he said, "let's play it by your rules. My name is Harry Potter," he looked expectantly at Dumbledore. "Satisfied?"

"What do you think you are playing at?!" James demanded furiously. "Are you supposed to be my by-blow or a long-lost cousin?"

"I am no one's by-blow!" the boy looked equally furious. "_My parents_," he added with an odd inflection, "were married."

"Good, good," Dumbledore interjected before James could fire back an angry retort. "There is simple test that could establish your credentials.

"Yeah? What does it involve?" the boy inquired suspiciously. "I'd point out that you are the obvious impostors here, but since you hold me at disadvantage…"

Dumbledore ignored the insinuation.

"This," he held out an unprepossessing silver mirror is one of my old friend's inventions. He called it the 'Stammspiegel'. If you smear a drop of your blood on it, it'll show you what your parents looked like."

The boy's expression hardened into a mask once again.

"If you want my blood you'll have to take it by force," he sneered. "I won't make it easy for you."

Dumbledore glanced at him with something akin to approval.

"I don't mind doing things the hard way," Moody interjected impatiently. He swiftly whipped out his wand, and a fraction of a second later there was a gush on 'Harry's' cheek, his blood welling and trickling down at his muggle t-shirt.

"Alistair," Dumbledore called out admonitory. "We don't need quite so much," he commented apologetically as he smeared some of the blood on the mirror and closed the wound.

Immediately there flickered some images. Sirius was too far to see what they were, but he saw that Harry went pale and James, who had come closer to watch looked positively green.

"What is it?" Snape snapped.

Wordlessly James passed the mirror to Lily.

"Well, it must be malfunctioning," she said confidently. "I would have remembered having a child… right out of Hogwarts, by the look of him. Heck, quite a few other people would have remembered!"

Snape seemed to have gathered his wits.

"This is an utter impossibility, Dumbledore," he said coldly.

"'Impossible' is such a strong word, Severus," the headmaster said calmly. "Your wife obviously did not give birth to this young man. But another Lily Evans in another world did. Or, Lily Potter, I should probably say."

The silence following this statement was deafening.

"So you are saying what, that I somehow got sucked into the Star Track universe?" 'Harry' asked derisively.

"Not sure what you mean by the 'Star Track', my boy, Dumbledore shrugged, but you certainly seemed to have stepped into a world that is not your own."

"One where Lily Evans is married to Severus Snape?" Harry asked without inflection.

"Precisely."

"Huh. That's as good explanation, as any I suppose." The boy said into the stunned silence in the library. "Can I have my wand back, please?"

"Hmm," Dumbledore looked unconvinced by his sudden complacence. "Are you satisfied with my explanation then?"

"Satisfied with an explanation you've purloined from some muggle sci-fi? Not bloody likely," 'Harry' sneered.

"In that case I have to reluctantly postpone returning your wand. I am told you are a formidable dueller."

"Not as formidable as you, if you are indeed Albus Dumbledore," the boy pointed out with a smirk.

"That's kind of you to say so," the headmaster chuckled. "But I'd rather not put it to the test. My reflexes aren't what they used to be, alas. Since you seem to know us all, or shall I say, our counterparts, perhaps you could think of something that would confirm to you our identity?"

"What, like asking you what flavour of jam you prefer?"

"It's raspberry," the headmaster supplied helpfully.

"Isn't it just," 'Harry' snorted. "What does the second instrument do?" he asked after a pause.

"Nicolas Flamel brought it from India and gave it to me some seventy years ago. It can purportedly register magical disturbances when the passages between different worlds are created. He himself was rather sceptical about both the instrument itself and the possibility of such passages. However, as you can see, the antennae are entwined now. I have never witnessed the phenomenon in the decades of monitoring the device."

'Harry' stared at the fragile silver wires with expression of some intense concentration.

"Fine," he said eventually. "Dumbledore I knew had a phoenix." He looked at the headmaster expectantly.

For a moment it seemed that the old man was going to ignore the request. Than suddenly there was a blaze of fire, and a splendid red and gold phoenix appeared in the library momentarily making the habitually glum looking room cheerfully and brightly lit.

"Fawkes!..." there was some unidentifiable emotion in the boy's voice, and he leaned forward seemingly wanting to reach out, but still constrained by the ropes from Remus's hex. The phoenix swooped at him and plopped right at his lap, giving out a soul-rendingly beautiful note. Suddenly two large tears were sliding from the boy's and the bird's eyes each, mingling as they dropped on his lap. They hissed, boiled, and then flames erupted engulfing them both. Lily cried out, Dumbledore jumped on his feet, but the fire was out almost at once. And then it was revealed, that 'Harry' was free from his restraints.

"Well," he said in a somewhat unsteady voice, "it seems that Fawkes vouched for both of us."

"So it does." Sirius fancied that the unflappable warlock seemed for once quite unnerved himself. "It appears, today is one for miracles," he murmured.

Without his stoic mask Harry looked younger and somehow lost.

"Do you have an idea how I come to be here, Professor?" he implored absently petting Fawkes, who, Sirius noted, had yet to leave the boy.

"I am afraid, I don't know, Harry," Dumbledore said. He was watching Fawkes frowningly. "Until today I was by no means certain that such things were possible."

"Oh," Harry ran his hand through his hair in a thoroughly James-like gesture. "Do you think you could, er, look into it?"

"Of course, I shall," Dumbledore assured.

"Thank you." Harry bit his lip worriedly and sneaked a look at Sirius for some reason.

"I, er, suppose there is Leaky Cauldron in your world as well? I could bunk there for the time being. When, I mean, if you find something—"

"Don't be ridiculous," James seemingly regained his wits. "You can't stay there. It's too exposed, and we don't even know who'd summoned you here, and why. If the death eaters are involved, you'd be an easy target."

Right. Easy. Sirius scoffed mentally. The kid nearly routed the three of them, which was saying quite a bit.

"Wait," Harry interrupted his musing. "Death Eaters? Are you saying that Voldemort is alive here?"

"Are you saying he snuffed it in your world?" Sirius countered marvelling that one so young was even willing to say the bastard's name aloud.

"Yes," was the curt answer. Then after a pause, "Headmaster, I happen to know quite a bit about my Voldemort's downfall. Some of what I know might be of use to you, I believe. I understand that you not really know me, and have no reason to trust me, so I'm prepared to take an Unbreakable Vow. In exchange you yourself vow to help me to get back home."

"That's too risky," Lily said frowningly.

"And borderline illegal," Moody grumbled.

"What's that, some Auror-speak?" Harry retorted. "Things either legal or not, aren't they?"

"Indeed, they are," Dumbledore stroked his beard pensively. "Very well, I accept." Immediately Fawkes let out another thrilling note and flew to sit on his wizard's shoulder.

"Well, Fawkes's approval clinches the matter," Dumbledore smiled to Lily reassuringly. Beside her Snape seemed to assume blank mask expression that was initially Harry's speciality.

"Well," Dumbledore announced, "there is no time like present. Harry, if you would…" he handed the boy his wand.

"Thank you," Harry stood up and after a moment's hesitation kneeled before the headmaster. "Perhaps Auror Moody will be our bonder?" He carefully avoided looking at the rest of the group.

Dumbledore kneeled in front of the boy. Sirius felt goosebumps down his neck as James's would be child faced the most powerful wizard as an equal.

"What's you middle name?" Dumbledore inquired.

"James," Harry looked right at the headmaster.

"Do you, Harry James Potter, swear to disclose truthfully to me any information that might in your estimation help the Order of the Phoenix to defeat and kill Lord Voldemort?"

"I swear." Two serpentine bonds erupted from both of their wands and were immediately entwined by Moody.

"Do you, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Harry intoned, "swear to help me to return to my world and to make the relevant research a priority as much as your other duties allow?"

"I swear", the serpentine bonds erupted and were entwined once again.

"A very temperate wording, Harry," Dumbledore stood up with somewhat astonishing agility.

"You'd be no use to me dead," Harry shrugged.

"Indeed. Well, my first duty concern Lord Voldemort. Shall we?"

Harry frowned.

"Before we start, I have a question of my own."

"You are in no position to make terms, boy," Moody grumbled.

"My vow only binds me to the headmaster," Harry countered, "I don't remember making any vows to anyone else."

"What do you wish to know?" Dumbledore asked.

"Are you still friends with Pettigrew?" For the first time Harry tuned directly to James.

"Pettigrew's dead," James answered curtly.

"Are you sure?" Harry frowned, "Did you see the body?"

"Quite sure," Remus put in, "I killed him myself."

Harry looked momentarily stunned then nodded.

"Ok then. Do you mind, if had some of these?" he nodded at the snacks on trays. "Duelling's hard work," he smirked.

Soon they were mooching on muggle pastries and sipped Ogden's finest while listening to a chilling tale of a madman who dabbled into the magic that no one has ever dabbled into to quite such degree.

Having grown up a Black, Sirius was no stranger to Dark magic, but the idea of splitting one's soul, much less repeatedly, was beyond his comprehension.

"And you know were those Horcruxes are, Mr. Potter," Snape asked still wearing the blank expression.

"I know where they were in my world. But even if they mostly the same here, some of them would be hidden differently," the boy said somewhat cryptically. He then rang out what seemed to a list of magical antiquities: a ring, a cup, a diadem, and a locket. To which he added somewhat incongruously a muggle diary and a snake.

"Why would he use a snake?" Lily frowned. "What's the point of creating a Horcrux with a limited lifespan?"

"He'd already had objects that would function solely as his soul anchors. With the diary and the snake he pushed the magical diaries even further. He could use the snake while possessing her, using the soul connection. And the diary had a memory of his teen-aged self embedded in it and possessed its own agency," Harry explained.

Lily shivered. "And you know where to look for these objects?"

"In my world he placed the heaviest safe-guards on the locket. "I could try to guide you to the cave where it was," Harry hesitated, "but it's a tricky proposition. The safeguards are _very_ strong and elaborate. The diadem should be the easiest, if it's the same. He'd hidden it in Hogwarts… when he came to a job interview," Harry looked at Dumbledore inquiringly.

"I am afraid I refused his application without an interview," Dumbledore sighed. "It seemed like the wisest option back then.

"Oh," Harry looked dashed, then frowned. "It _might_ still be in Albania…It's where Helena Ravenclaw hid it," he explained seeing Dumbledore's raised eyebrow. "He wheedle the secret out of her when he was still a student. And he seemed to have fled to Albania after his first downfall."

"_First_ downfall?" Moody asked sharply.

"Um, yes. There was a prophesy he stupidly tried to forestall and it backfired… I don't suppose it applies in your world?.." He glanced at Dumbledore for elucidation.

"I have never heard of such Prophesy," the headmaster said. "Of course, it doesn't mean that it hadn't been made," he looked at Harry expectantly.

"It was made to you in my world," the boy said curtly, "so it doesn't apply here."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but let it pass.

"What of the others," he asked.

"Well, the diary and the cup were given to Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange respectively—"

"So Bella married Lestrange in your world?" Sirius interrupted.

"Yes. Is she married here?"

"No. She was betrothed to Rodolphus, but got landed in Azkaban before the nuptials."

"And she is still there?" Harry asked somewhat incredulously.

"It is impossible to break out of there, you know."

Harry looked at him strangely. "More impossible than travel between the worlds or less, in your estimation," he snorted. "In my world Voldemort got his henchmen out of the fortress".

"Well, he didn't seem to bother here."

Harry looked at him thoughtfully. "You are the head of the Black family, right? Is your brother alive?"

"No, he was a Death Eater, and was killed in a skirmish," Moody supplied.

"Mmm. Anyway, as the head of the family, can you get an access to her vault? Legally, I mean. In my world the cup was in the Lestranges' vault."

"So how'd you guys get your hands on it?"

"We broke into Gringott's," Harry smirked.

"Get out!" James snorted. "It's even more impossible than breaking out of Azkaban."

"I'd be lying dead, if I lied, wouldn't I?" Harry pointed out. "We had help from one of the goblins. Except the bastard went back on his bargain as soon as we got the cup. Well, maybe from his point of view he fulfilled it to the letter, but he still screwed with us… Anyway, it's neither here, nor there…"

James listened enraptured.

"I so would like to hear that tale," he said.

"Perhaps, some other time," Dumbledore intervened. He glanced at Remus who was taking notes. "We'll have to look at the legal precedent. Technically Wizengamot has no authority over Gringott's…"

"Who will inherit, if Bellatrix died?" Harry asked.

"Are you suggesting that I should kill my cousin to get to her vault?" Sirius asked bluntly.

"I could cheerfully kill the Bellatrix I knew," Harry shrugged. "But what I mean is that her most likely legatee is Narcissa. If she inherits, you guys would be in an even worse shape… I bet there are no legal pretexts to get to the Malfoy vault…"

"Hmm… Narcissa and Lucius are estranged…"

"They are?..." Harry seemed almost comically thrown by that. "What about Draco?"

"He is a good little Death Eater, I suppose," Sirius shrugged.

"Not that we've been able to catch him at it," Moody grumbled.

"Ok, moving on. I have no clue where he kept the diary. In my world he foolishly tried to use it for his own ends. He didn't really know what it was, you see, and it was at the time when Voldemort was temporary out of commission… He paid for that when his master returned… I assume he still plays faithful keeper since Lord Voldemort has never been vanquished.

"So we'll need the Malfoy vault anyway," Sirius concluded.

"I dunno… He wasn't that keen to keep dark artefacts in his vault for some reason…" Harry flashed a mischievous reminiscent grin, and Sirius's heart mad a flip-flop. He looked so like James just then…and yet, he wasn't. Others, he saw, were watching Harry in fascination. Suddenly Harry seemed to have a thought that made him instantly sober.

"Do you know, if the Malfoys have an elf named Dobby?" he asked Sirius with odd urgency.

"Haven't the foggiest," he shrugged. "Why?"

"Just…he might help. And I might help him…He was a friend," Harry explained to his bewildered audience. "He helped me numerous times, though on occasion a tad misguidedly," the reminiscent grin made reappearance. "I tricked Lucius in freeing him. He saved my life at the expense of his own. I'd really like to help him here if I could. He hates the Malfoys, you see. Well, in my world he did. He wanted to be free, to get paid for his work. He was special…"

"Sounds like a weirdo," Moody commented. "Still, he can't betray his masters…"

"You'd be surprised what elves can do when they put their energy to it," Harry said grimly. "Where is Kreacher, by the way?" he asked Sirius.

"At the manor. Dumbledore here insisted that there would be no elves at the headquarters."

"Manor?" Harry looked momentarily confused, and then shrugged. "Well, that's good, he can be dangerous."

"If you say so."

"Oh, I do," Harry assured him grimly. "In my world he found a way to betray my godfather."

There was another of those eloquent silences as they digested that last bit of information.

"Anyway," Harry pursued. "The ring. In my world it was the first of Voldemort's Horcruxes. He was still a student when he visited his muggle family, killed them off, and framed his wizarding uncle for their murder. He then took his uncle's ring and made it in a Horcrux. He later hid it somewhere in his ancestral hovel. I don't know where exactly," Harry said apologetically as they listened in stunned silence. "It was one that Dumbledore in my world found and destroyed all by himself. He also got fatally injured in the process, so I suggest you take someone with you, Sir," he added.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"So that that someone would get cursed instead?"

"You are probably the most vulnerable to that particular curse," Harry said cryptically.

Dumbledore frowned then looked at the boy intently. Suddenly he was physically pushed back with a force of non-verbal Protego. Once again Harry managed to draw his wand ahead of everyone else. Immediately they were all on their feet pointing at the boy.

"It's all right," Dumbledore came back to the table and sat placidly. "Very effective, my boy, if unsubtle."

"I don't deal in subtlety," Harry retorted furiously. "I am already sworn to tell you the truth; you have no business, to break into my head like this!"

"My apologies," Dumbledore said calmly. "However you only say what you believe to be the truth, Harry. I find it hard to accept that I may be more susceptible to some cursed heirloom that anyone else in this room. Forgive my arrogance."

"That depends on an heirloom, Professor. This one came to the Gaunt family through the Peverells," Harry said with an odd emphasis.

"I see," Dumbledore leaned back suddenly looking a hundred years older. "It seems I was indeed guilty of arrogance. I would be most grateful, if you accompany me to the Lord Voldemort's 'ancestral hovel'."

"Sure," Harry nodded.

"Wait a moment," James called out. "It's not even his fight, why should he stick his neck out? I spent decades de-cursing magical objects; if anyone should go it should be me."

A tedious argument ensured, and the decision reached was that Dumbledore would go with both Potters and Sirius. Sirius's inclusion had an effect of finally rousing Snape out of his funk long enough to fling a few sarcastic comments about the arrangement.

"What about the snake?" Lily asked (probably to forestall Sirius's retaliation).

Harry shrugged.

"Voldemort mostly keeps it close. When he doesn't sends it for an assignment, that is."

"So we need to focus on the artefacts first?"

"That's what we did."

"Are you an Order member then?"

"Mm-hm… I was mostly underage during the war. The final battle was a couple of months before my eighteenth's birthday."

She frowned.

"Then why does it seem that you've been in the thick of it?"

"I dunno about your Voldemort, but ours wasn't that bothered about things like age limit," Harry shrugged. "I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Repeatedly."

Lily shook her head.

"If you say so."

Harry said nothing.

"I am still curious about the Prophesy," Moody said.

"And I still say it doesn't apply."

Dumbledore silenced Moody with a look.

"Let's formulate the immediate plans," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

AU Chapter 2.

In the end they decided that Harry would stay at the headquarters. Sirius stayed behind as well, ostensibly to make him feel at home but also to keep an eye on the boy. Judging by Harry's smirk, he saw through the excuse, but didn't seem to mind.

They were still seated in the library, Harry looking at the flames broodingly. Sirius summoned a fresh bottle of Ogden's and gestured to his guest.

"One more?" he suggested.

"Uh, no, thanks. I think I've about reached my limit."

"Aww, come on! How often do you travel between universes?" Sirius sent a tumbler his way. Harry caught it absently, but didn't drink.

"Does my, I mean, do the Snapes have children?" he asked.

"Yeah. The boy will be starting his seventh year come September. I heard Dumbledore made him Headboy. Takes after Lily, the lucky guy. Gryffindor. The girl is a Snape alright, poor soul. Down to the nose."

Harry scowled at him, but forbore to reprimand. Just like James. _Must_ the Potter men put the annoying redhead on a pedestal all the time, Sirius thought exasperated.

"How old is she?" Harry asked neutrally.

"Must be what, fourteen? Nah, fifteen. I remember Lily said she'll be starting her owl year."

"And James? Is he married as well?"

"Yeah, finally settled down with a good witch a few months ago. There is a baby on the way too," Sirius said carefully. You probably wouldn't know her, she's French. Part-Veela to boot."

"Merlin's balls!" Harry sputtered. "Don't tell me he married Fleur Delacour?!"

"Yeah, he did. Um, she's not your girlfriend, is she?" Talk about awkward.

"No," but Harry still looked disturbed, "No, really," he laughed shakily, as he noticed Sirius's suspicious glance. "It's just... She's married to someone else back home. We are friends," he finished lamely. "What of Remus?" he asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Uh, what of him?"

"Is he married?"

Sirius peered at his tumbler thoughtfully. Might as well get it out of the way, he decided.

"Remus is a werewolf here," he said.

"So was my Remus", Harry shrugged. "He married during the second war. His kid is my godson."

Sirius felt as he was kicked in the gut.

"Was?" he repeated. Harry didn't answer.

"I know I am dead in your world," Sirius said. "Or you wouldn't have inherited the house. Who else?"

"Everyone I met in your world is dead in mine."

"Fuck!"

"Exactly."

Sirius tried to imagine a world without James. He could only hope that his alternate self was the first to go.

"What about, you," Harry pursued, "no gorgeous part-Veela wife?"

"No. You?"

"Nope. Still I am not yet twenty one. What's your excuse?"

"I imagine the same as your godfather's," he probed.

"Doubt it. You've lived very different lives."

"What do you know about my life?" Sirius challenged.

"Well, you've got one for starters. You are alive, healthy and presumably free to do as you please."

"Huh. What was wrong with the other me then?"

"What wasn't?" Harry looked haunted. "He spent twelve years in Azkaban, and died a fugitive on the run. He was framed," Harry explained as he saw Sirius's expression. "Didn't even get a trial, thanks to bloody Crouch. What's he's doing here, by the way?"

"Crouch?" Sirius was still reeling from Harry's revelations. "He's a Minister for Magic."

"Figures."

"Are you saying that he is a Death Eater?" Sirius asked sceptically.

"No, though his son was in my world," Harry sipped his drink. "My godfather once said that world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. Crouch Sr. wrought almost as much damage as Crouch Jr."

"Hmm," the combination of alcohol and horrifying revelations made Sirius reckless. Though whom was he kidding, he didn't need booze to make rash decisions. Making up his mind to take bull by the horns, he looked right in those impossible green orbs and asked, "And did you actually kill Voldemort?"

Harry stared.

"We are not complete morons here, Harry," Sirius shrugged. There is only one reason as to why your prophesy does not apply here: if the person it concerns doesn't exist in our world."

"What does it matter, if it doesn't apply," Harry grumbled.

"Well, you seem to overlook one tiny detail. You sit right here in my library. Very much existing, I'd say."

"I see. So you expect me to polish off your Voldemort as well?" Harry sneered.

"Not at all. I am with James on this one – it's not your fight. You shouldn't let Dumbledore rope you in. Giving information is one thing, going after Horcruxes is a totally different proposition. Prophesies are notoriously fickle. It might've worked out for you once, but I wouldn't rely on it if I were you."

"I never relied on it!" Harry countered indignantly. "It was Voldemort who set it in motion."

"You might set things in motion too, if you go with Dumbledore tomorrow."

"I just want to make sure he'll be OK. I have a stake in his continuing well-being, you know."

"Mmm, and you think none of us is capable to watching his back?"

"It's not like that. I happen to know some of his secrets," Harry looked uncomfortable. "They aren't exactly mine to share."

"Well, well. At least some of us have lived exciting lives."

"I could do without the excitement, thank you very much!" Harry retorted hotly. "Right," he finished his drink and sent it to the side-board. "I am totally knackered. Where are you going to put me up?" He stood up somewhat stiffly, trying unsuccessfully to conceal a tremor.

"Sorry about that," it was Sirius's turn to look uncomfortable. "Massage would help with the side-effects. I could, you know, if you don't mind –"

"Sure," Harry nodded, "only fair, considering it's your handiwork."

Which was how they found themselves in a spare bedroom, Harry laying on his stomach, clad unselfconsciously only in pyjama bottoms that Sirius had unearthed in one of the closets, grunting and moaning, as Sirius was expertly kneading his neck and shoulders.

"That's a criminal waist of good malt," Harry observed as Sirius paused to rub some more of the beverage he used in lieu of lotion.

"The cellars are well-stocked," Sirius said. "And anyway, I am atoning for my sins, as it were."

He had no difficulty in making his touch expert and impersonal. How many times had he worked James's back after an exhausting Quidditch practice? He never slipped then, and he wouldn't now. There would be a cold shower for him later, but so what? It was almost worth it, to have cursed Harry Potter to get a look at this gorgeous sinew young body… To worship it in this perfectly blameless way. Almost. He was lucky Harry didn't seem to hold the use of one of the Black family darker curses against him. He was so like James… and yet, he wasn't… But this feeling, the mixture of guilt, lust, gratitude, excitement, love was one Sirius remembered too well. Love? Harry uttered a startled yelp, as Sirius's fingers clenched mid-knead at the thought.

"Uh, sorry," Sirius said. "I am a bit rusty."

Not love, obviously. Affection. And why not? Harry was James's after all.

Next morning Sirius stumbled to the kitchen hangover and underslept. The cold shower didn't work its magic, he thought resentfully. He only had about tree hours of uneasy sleep, nightmares mingling with wet dreams most annoyingly. He needed coffee ASAP, and thankfully he noticed James standing at the kitchen counter.

"Is that coffee?" Sirius rasped.

"What else? Here, you look like you could use one," James sent him a steaming mug.

"Thanks," Sirius drank gratefully. James was pale with bags under his eyes. "You aren't looking that chipper yourself," he observed.

"Well, what do you expect? The whole thing is weird as hell."

"It's even weirder to him," Sirius said quietly. "We are all dead in his world."

"Well, fuck!" James nearly chocked on his toast.

"Yeah, that how I see it too."

"Wonder if it has something to do with the bloody prophesy…"

"Sure it does," Harry made the entrance looking as weary as his older companions. "Seems like not settling down after Hogwarts and having me was one of your better moves."

Sirius winced. The boy obviously aimed for sarcasm, but it came off bitter.

"You can't just say something like that and let it hang out there!" James bit out.

"I suppose," Harry poured himself coffee. "I've been thinking… I am going to show you guys a memory. I take it, Dumbledore here owns a Pensieve?.."

"Wouldn't surprise me if he did," Sirius shrugged. "Anyway, I've got one as well…"

"Really?" Harry looked up surprised. "Here?"

"No, at the manor."

"Oh," he shook his long mane. "Anyway, I think I let my headmaster explain the prophesy thing. I can't make head or tail of it even now," he muttered darkly.

Before either of them knew how to react Dumbledore waltzed into the kitchen looking annoyingly cheery. When Sirius reported to him the latest development the ancient wizard beamed at Harry with satisfaction.

"I am so glad you've changed your mind, dear boy," he said. There was a flurry of Patroni dispatched. They agreed to reconvene for the memory viewing later today. Harry looked uneasy at the Snapes' inclusion, but didn't protest.

"There is something we need to consider, before we set off," Dumbledore said briskly. "Something we forgot to discuss in all the excitement yesterday. How did you destroy the Horcruxes, Harry?" he looked at the boy expectantly.

"Well, Fiendfyre kills them. But I admit I've no idea how to stop it once it starts burning. We mostly used Basilisk venom…"

There followed a stunned silence.

"Well," Dumbledore mused, "it seems we hit a bit of a snag. Basilisk venom is a substance in a very short supply. And it wouldn't do for us to start a Fiendfyre orgy in the midst of a muggle neighbourhood."

"You've got a live Basilisk right under Hogwarts," Harry countered with a studied nonchalance. "That is, unless you've got rid of it already?"

James looked as gob-smacked as Sirius felt.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Dumbledore asked looking alert.

"Well, it's your universe. But if Riddle here opened the Chamber of Secrets as a student, then yes, I am sure."

"No one believed it was him," Dumbledore said quietly.

"No one but you."

"Who _is_ Riddle?" James asked impatiently.

Harry drew his wand and wrote "Tom Marvolo Riddle" then waived it lazily and the letters rearranged themselves into "I am Lord Voldemort."

"Are you saying that he could control Basilisk as a student?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"He's an heir of Slytherin, a Parselmouth. That's how he got an access to the chamber, by the way."

"Hmm, than we are no better off than before…"

Harry looked uncomfortable.

"I, uh, could get you there," he said almost apologetically.

"You are a Parselmouth? How?!" James demanded.

Harry grimaced. "It is all discussed in that memory as well," he said. "The point is I could get us that venom…"

"No, hold on. You can't go down there alone, Parselmouth or not," Sirius interjected. "Heck, you've no business go there at all."

"I am the only one who _can_ go," Harry said impatiently. "And I was sort of hoping that I won't go alone. I've been thinking last night, if we used the Perseus's trick… It won't petrify the creature, but we could sort of guide each other with the reflections…"

"Wow, a mirror-shield!.. Ingenious. Let's do it!" James smiled appreciatively.

"I, er, hoped that the Headmaster would accompany me," Harry said diffidently. "It's just the last time it was Fawkes who gouged the Basilisk's eyes out. He also got us out of there. Getting in was easier than getting out…"

"Are you saying you've been down there as a student?" James demanded accusingly.

"Hark who's talking," Harry snorted. "At least I didn't _seek_ adventures. Mostly. Anyway, it's not my fault that the Chamber was opened again when I was a student. Then again, maybe it was," he added bitterly. "You all seemed to have had less excitement without me in the picture."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Dumbledore said airily. "And it would be my pleasure to assist you, my boy."

"I am going to," James said adamantly.

"So am I," Sirius hastened to assert.

Harry shrugged. "Not sure if Fawkes would be up to carrying all of us?" He looked at Dumbledore.

"Not to worry, not to worry," Dumbledore assured. "We could make several gos. Well, it seems like we should postpone the expedition to the 'ancestral hovel'," Dumbledore twinkled, "and get to that chamber first."

Sirius had never visited Hogwarts in summer. The castle looked odd without students milling around. Even the portraits seemed to have abandoned their frames en masse, now that there was no one for them to spy upon. How was it, Sirius mused, that he had never come back here after graduation? This was the place that held his happiest memories… Does it mean that he wasn't truly happy since he was eighteen? What a pathetic thought. Sirius looked sideways at his companions. James looked disgruntled, Dumbledore alert, and Harry was back to wearing his fall-back mask of indifference expression.

"You've got to be kidding!" Sirius exclaimed as Harry led them to the second floor girls' bathroom.

Harry ignored him.

"It's a girls' lavatory," an indignant voice exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Oh… Sorry, headmaster Dumbledore, didn't see you first," a ghost of a very ugly teenage girl executed an obsequious curtsy.

"Hello, Myrtle," Harry said sycophantically before Dumbledore had a chance to respond. "I am Harry. I've heard a lot about you, and I was wondering if I could have a word with you?"

"Oh," the girl looked pathetically gratified. "Of course. How can I help?"

"Well, you see, I am writing about Hogwarts," Harry lied glibly. "And I was hoping you'd agree to an interview." He conjured a muggle note-pad, and a pencil. "About your murder, you know. After all, it _was_ one of the most dramatic events in the school's recent history."

Sirius could see at once that it was a right thing to say. The ghost preened, and regaled them with a tale of her pathetic woes. He nearly sucked his breath though as she mentioned a hissing sound and a pair of huge yellow eyes bit. So it was all true then. Not that he doubted Harry at this point, but he sort of hoped that there wouldn't be any Basilisk in _his_ Hogwarts.

"It is as I thought," Harry nodded importantly. He'd made a good show of taking notes throughout Myrtle's speech. "If you don't mind, we are going to conduct a small investigation here. With the Headmaster's permission of course," Harry looked at Dumbledore questioningly.

"Go ahead, my boy," Dumbledore was looking uncharacteristically grim, Sirius noted.

In fascination they all looked as Harry hissed at the snake-shaped faucet, and a few moments later an opening appeared.

"Well, we could just jump in," Harry told them quietly. "That should do the trick. I wonder if old Salazar left something to facilitate the decent though."

"What did you say in order to open it?" James asked curiously.

"Just 'open up'"

"That's it?" James snorted. "Bit anti-climatic. Why can't you request something like lift, or stairs?"

"I doubt there were lifts thousands years ago," Harry objected. "Right," he turned to the snake and hissed some more. Sure enough, there appeared stairs. "Bingo! Thank you very much, Myrtle, your help was invaluable," he added.

"Laying it a bit thick, aren't you?" Sirius murmured, as started descending.

"Well, it _is_ scandalous that no one thought to interview her," Harry pointed out. "She is the only witness to her own murder, after all."

"Very true," Dumbledore had the grace to look perturbed. "That was a serious oversight on all of our parts."

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then Harry obviously decided to change the topic.

"Well, I don't think we'd need the shields until we are in the chamber, but perhaps we should conjure them now, just in case." He illustrated his words by expertly transfiguring his muggle note-pad. They hastily followed his example.

"Merlin's pants!" James exclaimed. Is that the beast's hide? It must be hundred feet long!"

"Dunno, I was too preoccupied to take measurements," Harry returned. "Is it good for something, by the way? We've been rather wasteful about things like that back home."

"Perhaps you could discuss it with Severus," Dumbledore suggested. "There is more to Basilisk than just venom, when it comes to potions ingredients."

Harry merely grunted, obviously not very happy at the prospect of conversing with Snape.

They entered a spacious cylinder room dominated by a huge stature of Slytherin.

"Vainglorious bastard, wasn't he?" Sirius observed.

"Seems like way too sophisticated for it to be just some snake's den," James said thoughtfully.

"Who knows, there might be more to it than that," Harry shrugged. "I didn't exactly have an opportunity to explore last time around.

Dumbledore looked utterly fascinated.

"I take it, the stature is the final obstacle?" he inquired.

"The Basilisk is summoned through the mouth," Harry acknowledged. "I never actually went in. Last time the battle was in right here.

"Hmm," Dumbledore hummed. "You don't think we could possibly avoid a battle? The beast is obviously placed here to guard something. Perhaps it could be persuaded to show us what is it?"

"I dunno," Harry looked sceptical. "It would have to recognise me as Slytherin's heir first, wouldn't it? And wouldn't Riddle have already taken anything of value already?"

"Besides, we still need its venom," James pointed out.

"I suppose it is technically possible to milk it," Harry said looking doubtful about the prospect.

"That's just stupid," James snapped. "You can't trust the creature not bite you in half."

"Well, I'll try to reason with it," Harry said. "We'll take it from there."

The four Gryffindors formed a semi-circle around the rival founder and raised their mirror shields. Dumbledore also put his hand onto the hilt of Godric Gryffindor's sword. Harry started his hissing.

Sirius felt goosebumps crawling down his neck as he saw the reflection of the giant serpent slithering out of the stone mouth. The four men backed instinctively as huge coils started to fill the antechamber's space. The beast hissed menacingly at them, and Harry launched into a speech that consisted seemingly only of sibilants. The Basilisk hissed some more, and to Sirius utter astonishments closed his eyes.

"Right," Harry vanished his shield. "I am going to milk it."

"I don't like it," James said tersely.

"No point for it to kill me," Harry sounded equally terse. "You'd be sure to retaliate."

"Let's hope the creature sees it that way," Sirius muttered.

Harry approached the serpent and hissed something. The monster lowered its head, eyes still shut, and soon Harry was able to fill a sizable vial with its venom. More hissing ensured. Suddenly the huge snake lunged to the left, making Sirius jump and brandish his shield.

"It's alright," Harry called. "It's going to let me into its liar. It says Riddle visited it only twice, and didn't stay long," he added in a tone of utter bewilderment.

Harry gestured the Headmaster to follow. The two marauders stayed in the antechamber, shields and wands at the ready. The Basilisk totally ignored them, seemingly preoccupied with arranging its coils for a more comfortable repose. When Dumbledore and Harry emerged from the stone mouth some time later, they were carrying a couple of codices and the expressions of unmistakable excitement. Harry made it right to the beast and resumed his hissing. Then to Sirius's disgust he actually patted the monster's head.

"Let's go," he said quietly.

"You won't have to tell us twice," James snorted. He was looking thoroughly perturbed, Sirius saw.

"So what did the bastard miss," Sirius asked as soon as they were back in the tunnel.

"Quite a bit, as it turns out," Dumbledore replied in a tone of deep satisfaction. "There is a laboratory, a veritable trove of research notes, manuscripts… These two appear to be the unknown works of Absalom the Wise," Dumbledore nodded at the codices.

"It's not that he missed this stuff precisely," Harry opined. "More like he thought he would be able to look at it at any time. But when the Myrtle's murder backfired he had to avoid opening the chamber, I guess. That's why he must have wanted the teaching post, to be able to access it at any time…"

"Very possible," Dumbledore agreed.

"Are you going to announce the discovery?" James frowned.

"Well, I believe that it would be most unwise in the current clime," Dumbledore said, "don't you think?"

"No I mean to the rest of the Order."

"There would be enough time to decide," Dumbledore smiled in understanding.

Harry, on the other hand looked bewildered.

"Don't you trust the Order?" he asked.

James sighed.

"Lily would want to see it," he explained. "She and Snape ran a research lab at St. Mungo's, you know. Or you don't," he added quietly catching Harry's surprised expression. "That beast might have played nicely today, but it was hatched to kill muggleborns."

"It kills on instinct, I don't think it discriminates, but yeah, I see what you mean…"

"I don't think it's fair to keep the secret from Lily and Severus," Dumbledore said serenely. Seeing that James was about to argue, he held up his hand. "We could discuss it later. Tonight there would be other matters for us to delve into."

They were gathered somewhat uncomfortably in the Headmaster's office. The cosy circular room wasn't supposed to be used for such largeish gathering, but somehow they all seemed to have found the space. Most portraits abandoned their usual pretence of indifference and watched out of their frames with avid interest. Only a couple of past headmasters including, to Sirius's disgust, Phineas Nigellus affected sleeping.

"Well," Moody huffed impatiently, "how much longer are we to await your pleasure, boy? Put it in there," he motioned to the Pensieve sitting ominously on the Headmaster's desk.

"I just, uh, want to apologise in advance," Harry looked like he was definitely having second thoughts about his decision, "It happened right after my godfather was killed, and I threw quite a tantrum, I am afraid." He was staring determinately at the bowl, avoiding meeting Sirius's eyes. Or anyone else's. "I also say quite a bit about Severus Snape from my world in that memory." Harry grew even more uncomfortable. "We, er, hated each other. So I apologise for that stuff," he said somewhat stiffly finally taking his eyes from the Pensieve and looking at Snape.

"Noted," said the Slytherin equally stiffly.

"I thought about editing it," Harry pursued, "but you'd notice it, and since I don't believe my vow covers memories, I didn't want you to think I left out something important."

"Very astute, Harry," Dumbledore approved. "Now, if you please…"

"Right," Harry put his wand to his forehead, and extracted a longish silver thread. "Here goes," he put it in the bowl.

"Shall we?" Dumbledore stirred the contents.

Sirius thought the experience would be awkward, but the reality was indescribable as they emerged from the Pensieve in the stunned silence. Remus looked shell-shocked, Lily was crying openly, and James was suspiciously bright-eyed. Snivellus was looking positively sick. Even Moody seemed perturbed, and Dumbledore definitely lost his annoying twinkle. Harry, who hadn't accompanied them to the Pensive, silently moved to retrieve his memory.

Sirius himself would be damned if he knew how he felt. The soul-shuttering revelations of his friends possible fates, the dull ache at the thought of his alter-ago wretched life and death, the enormity of Harry's burden… all paled before the blinding truth that Harry had loved him. Did love him. The other him. Amid all the wretchedness and suffering the other Sirius had known what he himself had come to believe impossible. He knew it was irrational, not to say pathetic, but he came to accept that he would never inspire love in others. Well, not quite that. James loved him, he knew, like a brother. But even in their most carefree days in Hogwarts Sirius's need for James had always been greater than the other way round. Even without added complication of Sirius having being sexually obsessed with his best friend, there was the fact that James came from a loving family. Because he had always known love he wasn't that ludicrously needy. That was the word, if there was one at all. James loved him, but he never needed him. Not even at the worst time of his life when he'd just upped and gone away. Alone. But Harry's naked pain and despair in the memory showed how much his godfather's death has shattered him. How great his need for the other Sirius had been. I, no, _he_, was this boy only family, he thought. They mightn't have a lot time together, probably hadn't known each other that well, but Harry had loved his Sirius with the kind intense unconditional love, Sirius had always longed for, but had long since abandoned any hope to find. He looked sideways at James, who was staring determinately at his wand-holster. It had taken his friend death to bring about that miracle. How fucking wrong was that?!

"Um, does Neville exist in this world?" Harry decided to break the awkward silence.

"No, Frank Longbottom is single here," Dumbledore said. "His fiancé was tortured to death."

"Oh. What about the Weasleys?" Harry asked after some visible hesitation.

"They are alive."

Harry let out his breath.

"Humpf," Moody snorted. "If you could call it that. Arthur has been at St. Mungo's for ages."

"What? Why?" Harry snapped his head at the old Auror direction.

"Tortured into insanity," Moody explained succinctly.

Face ashen, Harry actually wobbled at his feet. He would have fallen, Sirius saw, if Dumbledore, who was closest to him, didn't steady the boy.

"Thanks," Harry croaked, as he plopped in the chair the headmaster conjured. "I'm fine, just weird." He hesitated, and then asked quietly. "What of their kids?"

"They both are alive and well."

"Both?.." Harry looked positively sick.

"Yes. I take it there are more in your world?"

"Seven." Harry swallowed. "We are friends," he added lamely. "Uh, I think I am going to take a walk." He stood up "To blow the cobwebs away an' all…"

"That's a really bad idea," James reacted instantly.

"What am I, a prisoner?" Harry demanded hotly.

"Don't be ridiculous. There is a war going on, and we still don't know who summoned you here. No sense put yourself in danger."

Harry didn't look mollified at James's stab at parental concern.

"I am a trained Auror, I know how to be careful", he said. He flicked a wand at himself and went nearly invisible with a potent disillusionment charm. "Satisfied?"

"That's a neat trick, Harry", Dumbledore said. "Still give Hagrid's hut a wide berth, if you please? It would be most unwise to alert more people to your presence here."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"More coffee?"

Remus merely grunted in response. Sirius studied his friend covertly. There was more grey than sandy-brown in his hair now, and the lined face looked far older and weary than it should be possible for a wizard in his early forties. Was it his imagination, or had the aging accelerated as of late? Sirius had read all there was to read on lycanthropy during his failed legislative battle. It wasn't stimulating reading. Most authors were only interested in sure ways to hunt and kill werewolves, often throwing in lengthy expositions on the latter lack of humanity and morality by way of justification. Still there were snippets of genuine information to be found here and there. One observation that cropped up with devastating regularity was that werewolves all seemed to have drastically shortened life-spans. Those bitten as adults rarely lasted more than dozen years, if that long. Children seemed to adapt better to the curse, provided that they survived first couple of transformations, but even so they all died significantly younger than their wizarding peers. When he first stumbled on this information Sirius told himself that it was just as unreliable as nearly everything else written on the subject (always excepting hunting tips, those were all too reliable, unfortunately). Even if the author was a conscientious researcher, Sirius had reasoned, wouldn't his data be skewed anyway due to the fact that many adult werewolves were hunted and killed during a full moon? But he'd stumbled at the mention of premature aging again and again across different sources and it hadn't been long until he could discern the telltale signs in his friend's face. Finally unable to deny the truth, Sirius had swallowed his resentment and approached Lily, for the first time since James had left for Mexico.

He'd hoped that he would be able to fund the werewolf-related project at the Snapes' lab, one that would concentrate on slowing down the aging. Lily had been interested, which meant that Snivelly would go along, but Remus flat out refused to be their guinea-pig. A search for willing test subjects who could also be allowed at the St. Mungo's premises had proved to be the most frustrating affair, and the project stalled. Sirius wondered if it was the right moment to broach the subject to Remus again. Probably not. Moony grew increasingly testy after a full Moon these days.

Sirius drunk from his mug, trying hard to clump at the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Last night was supposed to be a sheer uncomplicated fun, a welcome respite from the whole convoluted mess that was the "Harry situation". The manor grounds were spacious, yet well guarded; Prongs had been given his permission to join the fun… But the experience had turned to be… unsettling. Moony had acted way more aggressive than Sirius could remember him being. Sirius had had to hastily patch up a couple of scars and cast a few glamours on his fresh bruises after transforming back. And so, he would wager, had James. Of course, it had been really long since the time the marauders frolicked together. And back then there was a fourth member of their group present… Sirius suppressed a shiver.

"Do you think, you'd be up to joining us today, Rem?" he asked.

"I'd better, if Harry isn't coming," Remus said with a faint hint of disapproval.

"He's no business to fight our fights," James retorted. The first thing, other than "hey" he'd said since yesterday night, Sirius thought.

Remus let out another of his unintelligible grunts.

"By that logic you've got no business to set up a Gringott's vault for him," Sirius pointed out.

"That's different," James scowled at him without elaborating.

Sirius shrugged and dropped the matter. The vault had been a subject of a furious clash between the two Potters. In the end James had slummed the golden key on the Grimauld Place's battered kitchen table and left in a huff. Harry had calmly told Sirius that he'd put it on the mantelpiece in his chamber, "so you'd know where it is, in case I got pulled back home or something," as he put it. Sirius didn't argue the point. The boy had obviously inherited his mother's pigheadedness, so what good would it do? Besides, by then his energy had been thoroughly spent on discussing whether or not Harry should participate in the imminent raid to Riddle's "ancestral hovel". In the end it was Dumbledore who clinched the matter.

"All I have to do is to simply avoid trying it on, Harry," he'd said quietly. "I think we can depend on the Order members to prevent me from doing so."

"'Simply'," the boy had snorted. "It's not like they'd need to resist an Imperius Curse or something," but in the end he'd acquiesced. Instead of going Horcrux-hunting Harry had arranged to show the subterranean lab to the Snapes. That provoked another altercation with James, who'd made his best to muscle himself into the party. Harry had been adamant in refusing going behind Lily's back, even "for her own good". Sirius could see that the boy simply didn't want to find himself in an awkward situation, but James obviously felt rejected, not to mention crazy worried.

Suddenly a ghostly phoenix appeared in the manor kitchen, interrupting Sirius's musings.

"There have been some developments," Dumbledore voice was uncharacteristically tense. "I know it is a short notice, but it would be best if you come to Hogwarts as soon as you can."

The first thing that registered with Sirius as they stumbled out of the fireplace was that Harry and Lily were both alive and seemingly unhurt. His guts started to uncoil in his stomach, and James, he saw, actually sagged ever so slightly against the mantelpiece. Still the picture that was presented to the marauders was disturbing.

Snape was lying on a transfigured cot, pale and motionless. Lily was sitting beside his supine form, clutching his hand and looking scared. Harry was seated across the Dumbledore's desk looking tense. Both of them had sooth and burned marks about them. The headmaster, his back to them, was stooping over Fawkes's golden cage, crooning and arranging ashes. Sirius blinked. Instead of the familiar resplendent red-and-gold creature there was only an ugly grey chick wobbling awkwardly through the bed of ashes.

"Fawkes?.." he said incredulously.

"Indeed," Dumbledore turned and scooped more ashes from the fireplace. "Going through the rebirth process ahead of schedule, as it were…"

"What happened," James demanded.

"A Horcrux-related accident, apparently," Dumbledore replied. "I think it would be for the best, if we viewed the whole episode in the Pensieve. We were only waiting for you. Lily, if you would…"

The redhead got up silently and put a silver strand into the basin. Dumbledore stirred the contents. "Shall we?" he invited.

The memory started with the Snapes and Harry strolling down the second floor corridor. Harry was levitating a large box before him. The tension in the group was palpable, between the Snapes and Harry, as well as between Snivellus and Lily.

"So, are you going to say what's in the box?" Lily snatched at the obvious conversational gambit.

"A snack for our host," Harry said. "I thought it would be prudent for us to come bearing gifts. You'd better go right to the lab before I opened it, though."

The box shook and rattled midair, nasty scratching noises issuing from out of it.

"Are you saying that you hunted acromantula without any back-up?" Snape sounded disgusted. "That's idiotic even by Gryffindor standards."

Harry shrugged.

"I only hunted at the edges of their colony," he explained. "Believe me, I don't fancy dealing with a fully-fledged specimen."

Snape merely huffed, but Lily regarded the box in fascination.

"How big do they get, anyway?" she asked.

"You don't want to know," Harry grimaced.

Lily raised her eyebrows, but let it slide.

"The colony in the Forbidden Forrest is so huge, I believe it's started to threaten other species, actually," Harry said pensively. "I wonder if it is feasible to let the Basilisk out to hunt? At least now that there aren't any students about. We'd have to trash it out with the Centaurs first, I guess… "

"Could we perhaps extract its venom?" Lily suggested, nodding at the box.

"Best not. The only fail-safe way to get acromantula venom is to kill it first. It wouldn't be nearly as fun for the Basilisk, if I brought it a dead spider in lieu of a treat."

There was more desperate rattling from the box. Lily frowned.

"Does it actually understand what we are saying?"

"Dunno. They can be taught human languages, but I doubt that this one had a teacher," Harry replied unconcernedly.

When they finally arrived to the lavatory the Snapes attention was diverted from the doomed creature and the morbid conversation came to an end.

As Harry introduced the couple to the Moaning Myrtle it transpired that the ghost remembered Lily, but was quite impervious to the redhead's charm. Sirius nearly chuckled. Who knew that he actually had something in common with the pathetic spectre? Snivelly looked incensed at Myrtle's spitefulness to his wife, put perked up as Harry started his infernal hissing. The trio reached the chamber without any mishap, and the Snapes found themselves in the lab, soon followed by Harry. Since it was Lily's memory they didn't get to see the spider's demise. Not that Sirius minded. He'd just had his breakfast, after all.

In the lab the Snapes finally snapped out of their funk and busied themselves with inspecting the manuscripts and cataloguing the stores, expressions of sheer wonder and reverence on their faces. Sirius acknowledged grudgingly that for once Snivellus looked almost human. Harry, on the other hand, was back to his mask mode. He was studiously avoiding looking on the couple, or conversing with them for that matter, returning only the most generic answers to Lily's attempts of conversation and occupying himself instead with a languid perusal of scrolls and codices in a remote corner of the room. Sirius suspected he was bored out of his skull, since it was unlikely that he knew all the languages. Suddenly Harry checked mid-movement and let out a colourful expletive.

Lily looked up with a frown.

"Sorry," Harry said curtly. "I think it's enough for today. We need to get back."

Lily started to protest, but Snape held up his hand.

"Why?" he asked simply.

"We need Dumbledore to deal with this," Harry motioned at a small unprepossessing notebook nestled among the ancient parchments. A small _muggle_ notebook. Snivelly was the first to realise the significance of muggle mass-produced stationary stored among Salazar Slytherin's possessions.

"Very well," he said tersely. "Will you go first?"

"Yeah. You should conjure mirror shields, just in case," with that Harry levitated the notebook and vanished into the tunnel. There was more hissing and soon Harry called "All serene!" The Snapes followed into the tunnel.

The picture that presented them as they emerged out of the stone mouth was indeed grotesquely serene. The great serpent, his eyes closed, reposed gently among the intricate arrangement of its coils, seemingly content and at peace. By contrast Harry was clutching his wand tensely his whole attention on the cheap looking black book he was levitating.

"You first," he nodded towards the tunnel without taking his eyes from the notebook.

Lily frowned, but complied.

Some more hissing later, and she was joined by the two men. They continued back in silence only breaking it to take their leaves of Myrtle, until they reached the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office.

"Do you know the password?" Harry asked.

"The Headmaster's out," the gargoyle croaked before either of Snapes could answer.

"Great," Harry slumped on the floor. "We'll wait here until he returns. At least, I will," he looked at Snape intently, as if trying to convey a silent message. "There is no point for all three of us to cool our heels here."

"No," Lily was visibly annoyed. "We would like an explanation first, please."

"This is one of the objects I mentioned," Harry said, "We'll need Dumbledore to destroy it."

"Couldn't you ask the Basilisk to chew on it?"

"This book contains a memory of the sixteen year old Riddle," Harry flipped the book open midair and showed the inscription. "What are the odds that the Slytherin's Serpent would follow my commands and not those of Slythern's own heir?"

Suddenly unpleasant laughter rent the air. "So you are not a complete simpleton, are you, Harry Potter?" a voice asked.

Sirius gasped. He was not the only one, he noticed. The Snapes in the memory nearly jumped out of their skins. Snivelly tried to bodily shield his wife, but the apparition of the dark-haired Slytherin prefect ignored them both in favour of studying Harry.

"How come you speak Parseltongue, Harry? Are we related?"

Harry remained silent.

"It is in your best interest to answer, you know," the ghostly boy said. He was a handsome stripling, Sirius thought, but there was something unnerving in his perfectly proportioned features. And his eyes… Was it because the apparition was actually a Horcrux, or had the flesh and blood Riddle too had this unmistakable tinge of crimson in his eyes when he'd been a student? And how could the Hogwarts faculty have possibly missed that?

"I suppose," Harry snorted. "Wouldn't want to go the way you kin went, would I?"

"What do you know about that?" Riddle glided to Harry and peered at him intently. "Tell the truth!"

Harry smirked. "Still haven't learned to ask politely, Tom," he taunted. Then his face blanked and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Riddle smirked right back nastily.

"Crude, but effective," he said. "But there is chink in your defences, Harry Potter. Right here." He raised his ghostly hand to Harry's forehead nearly touching the lightening-shaped scar in an odd travesty of a caress. Riddle laughed softly, and Sirius felt his hairs standing on end. "Who was it that invaded France through a hole in someone else's skull? Never mind, Harry, I don't need a hole. A chink will do."

Lily in the memory cried out as the ghostly boy sifted into Harry through the curse scar. Immediately Harry crumpled into a helpless heap on the floor and screamed. Lily rushed to him, but Snape caught her mid-movement.

"He is possessed, Lily! We need to get out of here and get Dumbledore!"

"He is hurting! We can't leave him like that!"

Harry jerked into the half-sitting position.

"Snape," he rasped, holding out his wand, "take it..."

Not needing to be told twice Snivellus snatched the holly wand. For a moment their eyes met and held. Then the older man let out a horrified gasp, as the emerald orbs started to turn crimson.

"Kill me if you must," Harry whispered and closed his eyes.

Suddenly a shrill animal howl rent the air, and Riddle left Harry's body. He was no longer looking his flawless and pristine self, Sirius saw. There was something animalistic in his too perfect features now, distorted as they were by his incandescent rage. The apparition hovered for an undecided moment over the discarded diary, but apparently thought better of seeking refuge there.

Lily, finally free from Snape's grasp, stooped over Harry, who was still lying crumpled in a foetus position on the floor.

"How are you", she asked worriedly.

Harry stirred and sat on the floor.

"Ask me tomorrow", he grimaced.

"Touching," Riddle had finally composed himself and was smirking at Snape. "Don't you feel _de trop_, Severusss?" The faint hissing made mockery of the name. "How does betraying your house work out for you?" Face pale, Snape regarded the other Slytherin defiantly. "Oh, I see," Riddle said thoughtfully. "At least, yours is a more disciplined mind." He smiled nastily. "But mind is not everything, is it?" He gestured at Harry. "How does it feel, to meet your Boggart in the flesh?" Snape's fists clenched spasmodically over both ebony and holly wands, as Riddle leaned to his ear. "How does it feel, to know that you owe you happiness to an accident of your wife making the wrong choice?" Snape closed his eyes, but remained silent. "Your bluff's finally been called, Severus Snape," Riddle intoned without the mocking hiss this time. "You can't fool yourself any longer. You can't sell your soul for false coin any longer. It's time for you to reclaim it."

"He won't listen to you," Lily said coldly. "So don't bother."

Riddle didn't turn.

"Smug, isn't she?" the monster boy observed, almost echoing Sirius's own thoughts as he watched the scene to unfold. "So sure of her power. But her power isn't her own. It was you who—"

Suddenly Snape locked his eyes with Harry again. Ignoring Riddle he spoke directly to the dark-haired Gryffindor.

"James Charlus Potter," he intoned enunciating clearly every syllable… and promptly collapsing on the floor without another sound.

Lily cried out, but both Harry and Riddle looked baffled. Then Harry suddenly snatched Lily's wand and pointed it at the diary… And the next moment Hell literally broke loose.

Having grown up a Black, Sirius knew about Fiendfyre, of course he did. But not even his Dark Arts obsessed kin had been reckless enough to attempt the curse. You didn't need to be uniquely powerful or accomplished to let it loose, but no amount of skill and talent could rein it back unless some proper sacrifice was offered. _That_ was what made it so dark and dangerous.

He looked around at the horrified expressions of the onlookers. Even the knowledge that they were not in danger now couldn't quite dispel the leaden sensation in the pit of his stomach as he watched the fiery monsters' frenzied orgy. To make matters worse Harry in the memory was the only one with a wand, and it was clear that for once he was well over his head. After a futile attempt at dousing the flames he tried to erect a transparent wall between Lily and the Fyre, while trying simultaneously to dodge it. The wall withstood the flames only for a fraction of a moment and then began to crack and crumble. Lily cried out gesturing at Snape who was lying defenceless and exposed at some distance. Harry handed her her wand back, and next moment a red-tailed hawk was flying across the room swerving jerkily, as he was trying to avoid a fiery chimera. A couple of moments later Harry transformed back beside the prone Snape and snatched his holly wand. Simultaneously Lily was performing some insanely complex charmwork that seem to have calmed the fiery monsters somewhat.

"Do you know how to quell it?" Harry cried hopefully as he erected another temporary wall around Snape.

"You can't quell it!" Lily yelled back without stopping her ministrations or taking her eyes off the flames. "It only stops once it's eaten its full."

"Oh. So can't we, I dunno, conjure things and chuck them in?"

"No! It won't work, and once you start feeding it, it would be impossible to contain."

There was another pause, as Harry tried to deflect flames by conjuring more walls.

"We need to get out of here," he stated the bloody obvious. "Elves can apparate and disapparate out of Hogwarts. You don't own one, do you?"

Good thinking, Sirius thought admiringly. The boy had his head screwed the right way.

"Of course, not," Lily snapped.

Sirius sneaked a look at James. His friend was looking at the redhead with the expression of consternation on his face. Sirius shook his head. What was wrong with her? All she needed was to send a Patronus…

"Can you command Hogwarts elves?" Harry pursued.

"No, only the faculty can do it."

They wrestled with the flames some more in silence.

"You are closest to the door," Harry said at last. "Summon a broom, get out and get help."

"I am useless on a broom."

"You only need to fly a few feet," Harry said reasonably. "How useless can you possibly be?"

This time even James cracked a smile, despite everything. When it came to broomsticks, the depth of Lily's uselessness was legendary.

Harry too, obviously discarded the idea of getting Lily on a broom, and moved on to another scheme.

"My animagus form is not big enough to carry a grown man or I'd try and pull a Fawkes," He said, "Still—"

But at this moment the flames carefully controlled by Lily erupted with a new vigour. Before any of then had time to let out a horrified cry a magnificently regal red and gold bird appeared in the centre of the vortex.

"Fawkes!" Sirius exhaled in unison with the two figures in the memory.

The Fyre intensified as the phoenix and the flames seemed to be feeding each other. Then Fawkes erupted into a shower of smouldering cinders and simultaneously the Fyre died.

"Fawkes," Harry rushed and kneeled at the heap of smoking ashes that had been the phoenix moments ago. "Fawkes", he repeated in a voice of wonder, as he noticed something stirring at its centre. Wincing he dug into the heap with his bare hands, and sat back cradling a singularly ugly chick on his lap.

"Best put him back into the ashes, Harry," both Harry and Lily turned and looked at Dumbledore.

"Seems, I have missed all the excitement," the ancient wizard said mildly. "Shall we repair to my office?..." Then the memory faded.

"What is it about your scar that makes you so vulnerable to Voldemort," Remus demanded as soon as they exited the Pensieve.

"Dunno," Harry regarded the werewolf with a slight challenge. "What is it about me that makes you so hostile?"

Remus gave him a look.

"What do you expect from a werewolf? We don't play nice."

"How 'bout playing fair?"

Remus mouth twisted as he was about to retort, but Lily interrupted the byplay.

"Do you know what happened to Severus, Harry?" she implored.

"Uh, sorry, but I don't understand it. Back home Ginny, I mean, a student, was like this when I reached the chamber. But she suffered from the long exposure to the diary. Riddle possessed her and fed off her life force. Still she came to as soon as I killed the diary. I expected it would be the same with him, or I wouldn't have risked summoning Fiendfyre… Sorry."

"Maybe the Headmaster should repeat the question," Remus put in. "He can lie to everyone else."

Sirius glared Remus. So did James. Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at Dumbledore.

"I don't think it would be necessary, Remus," Dumbledore said in a tone of mild reprove. He strolled to Snape's cot and performed intricate readings with his wand. "Hmm, Severus exhibits symptoms similar to the Living Death."

"Is there a curse with comparable effects?" Lily turned to Sirius reflexively. _As if I were the resident Dark Arts expert_, he thought nettled.

"What would be the point?" he replied, trying to sound dispassionate. "It doesn't kill, and doesn't torture either."

"But how could a mere memory douse Sn… Severus with the drought?" James asked. "And for what? And why did he say my name?"

"Wait a moment," Harry exclaimed. "I got an idea…" He crouched at the cot and wrenched Snape's mouth open. Before Lily could demand explanations Harry whipped his wand out and summoned something. "Gotcha!" he cried out triumphantly and handed what looked like miniscule glass shards to Lily. "Can you run tests on these?"

She stared at Harry's palm disbelievingly.

"However did you guess?!"

"The full name," Harry nodded at James. "That must have been a codeword to activate the capsule. It's a muggle trick," he said admiringly.

Sirius nearly whistled. That was one nifty trick. You've got to hand it to Snivellus. And naturally, James's full name wasn't something he'd say casually, so it was a safe password.

Lily meanwhile cupped Harry's hand in hers.

"You are an Auror, aren't you?" She said. "You've got to have an emergency kit on you."

"Uh, sure," Harry dived into his apparently magically extended pouch and dug it out.

"Great. Could you run the tests while I check on the kids? They need to be told."

Harry didn't look thrilled at the proposed division of labour, Sirius was pleased to see.

"Potions aren't exactly my _forte_", he warned.

"I am not asking you to brew the antidote," Lily dismissed. "Just to run basic tests. I'll be back soon."

"I can't run the tests here, can I," Harry looked at Dumbledore for support.

"Not to worry," the old man seemed to have regained his annoying cheerfulness. He raised his wand in a movement so fluid, it was barely noticeable, and a working table complete with the potions equipment appeared in a remote corner of the room. A corner? Sirius looked at the familiar circular space sensing a beginning of a headache.

Harry looked equally bemused. Then he sighed resignedly. "Oh, alright," he said tracing fingers through his mane of unruly hair. "I don't suppose you have Golpalott's _Complex Simplicity_ on hand?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore summoned the book. "Excellent choice, Harry," he approved.

Harry grumbled something unintelligible and approached the worktable. James sauntered to his 'corner' as well.

"Need a hand?" he asked.

Harry looked up from Golpalott.

"Are you any good with this stuff?" he asked hopefully.

"Uh, not really. Dropped Potions as soon as I could. Still I could chop something, or stir..."

"Thanks a bunch," Harry snorted. But he didn't object as James flipped through Golpalott and helped to find a relevant chapter, as Harry busied himself with the kit.

Sirius made no attempt to join them. An ex-Auror himself, he would have been of greater use to Harry than James, but knew better than to intervene. It was the first time the two Potters had anything approaching a bonding experience. That they did it in an attempt to revive Snivellus was beyond weird, but so what? Gods had twisted sense of irony.

Sirius looked sideways at Remus. The werewolf was staring broodingly at Harry. Sirius felt a twinge of irritation at his old friend. What _was_ his problem with Harry, anyway? Why was he even here, loitering about Dumbledore's office? Surely he wasn't that interested in Snape's fate. Then again, why did he, Sirius, loiter? Snivelly could remain a living corpse for another century, for all Sirius cared. The memory Harry had shown to them proved once and for all that the marauders had been right about Snape. In Harry's world he'd worked for Voldemort. Whatever the alternate Dumbledore had held over him that had made him so sure of Snape's loyalties, the guy had still been rotten to the core. When things hadn't gone his way in Harry's world, he'd turned dark. Quod erat demonstrandum. Sirius had known that all along, and now he derived a certain satisfaction from being proven right. Just as he did from the proof that Evans had chosen wrong. Sirius wondered if James felt vindicated. Lily's rejection had shuttered Prongs's view of himself, had diminished his sense of self-worth. Well. It was plain now, that Lily was the one that had screwed up. Surely he could see it now. Then again, any feeling of vindication would be suffused by that of bereavement. Harry, surely a son any parents would kill to have, could have been his. Lily hadn't just turned him down; she cheated him out of having Harry… Sirius's lips twisted into a nasty smirk. At least Prongs wasn't the only one who was robbed. Lily's son was well enough, but he wasn't Harry. Nothing and no one was. And that sourfaced daughter of hers…At least any kids of James and Fleur were bound to be lookers.

Prongs would hex him for such thoughts, he knew, but he didn't feel guilty. The little snake was sorted into Slytherin, so she must have inherited more from Snape than just the nose. She certainly wasn't put into Salazar's house for the purity of her bloodlines… Sirius sneaked another look at the Potters' 'corner' of the circular room. They both had been working in harmony for about an hour, and the worktable was now covered by the array of small vials containing, Sirius presumed, the separated components. Abruptly Harry straightened up.

"Either I made a mistake, or it's not the Living Death," he said worriedly.

"If it were, Severus would be looking dead, instead of merely unconscious," Dumbledore replied looking up from an ancient scroll he was reading.

"Then why did—" Harry started indignantly.

"I expect it is some variation of the draught," Dumbledore interposed. "Severus must have wanted to become dead to the world, as it were, but not to be actually mistaken for a corpse."

"Oh. Well, then it is well beyond my abilities. Recognising known brews is about the extent of my expertise in Potions."

"That's not saying much," Lily said tartly as she climbed out of the fireplace. "Let me see your notes."

As she was perusing the notes and tinkering with the vials, Lily's expression became more and more worried.

"Something the matter?" James asked.

"I'll need a phoenix feather to brew the antidote," Lily looked doubtfully at the golden cage. Fawkes seemed to be indistinguishable from the mound of ashes on its floor.

"It's going to be a few months before he regains his plumage, I am afraid," Dumbledore said apologetically.

"Ollivander uses phoenix feathers for his wands. Perhaps he could spare some?" Harry suggested.

Dumbledore regarded him thoughtfully.

"It's not often, that he comes by a phoenix feather," he said. "And if he doesn't use it straightaway, I'll eat the Sorting Hat."

"So we have to wait," Lily said. Suddenly her expression crumpled and she started to cry. Both Potters reacted with nearly identical expressions of dismay. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"It's only a couple of months," he said bracingly. "He won't come to any harm in the meantime, will he? I bet he made sure of that."

"Easy for you to say! I can even be sure that Fawkes _will_ donate his feather! He never liked Severus much…"

"Imagine that," Sirius muttered.

"Sirius!" James called out warningly.

"My wand has a phoenix feather core. Fawkes's feather, actually," Harry intervened hastily. "I hope it won't be necessary, but if the worst comes to worst, we can use it."

"Thank you," Lily smiled gratefully.

Remus watched the exchange shrewdly.

"And what is it that you don't tell us about your wand?" he demanded.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Harry was obviously getting fed up with the werewolf's attitude.

"There is something important that you don't say," Remus pursued doggedly. "I can feel it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I bet the Headmaster already guessed it," he said.

"Maybe not all of it," Dumbledore smiled at him looking expectantly.

"Oh, why don't you tell us already," Lily sounded exasperated. "Can't you see, that we can't afford more mistakes?" she gestured at Snape.

Sirius bristled. "It was your husband who activated the capsule because he couldn't take few taunts," he retorted. "How come it is Harry's fault?"

The redhead rounded on him, emerald eyes blazing. "Look," she started.

"It is, actually," Harry was back to his mask mode. "I should have left the diary back in the lab, and bring the Headmaster to dispose of it later. I may as well involve myself in the Order now. If there is a prophesy about me, I have certainly activated it."

"I am afraid you might be right about that, Harry," Dumbledore said gravely. "A friend of mine collects personal effects of wizarding mavericks. He loaned me this letter from Rurick the Fantasist," Dumbledore gestured at the scroll he'd been reading for the past hour. It was covered with ancient runes, Sirius saw.

"Rurick was Jarl Igmund Thudervoice's court wizard and he made himself rather notorious by trying to dissuade his Lord and master from pursuing what the Jarl saw as his destiny," Dumbledore explained. "Here is what he says on the subject, 'Prophesies, my gracious lord, represent rents or pores in the fabric of the Universe. If you untwine Skuld's thread from your past and present and chase it through the Well of Urdr, you may find yourself in the world you do not recognise. The Norns do not regard it kindly when mortals venture boldly to improve on their handiwork and refashion the cloth of the Universe. They may use the tread of your destiny to mend the rent and then you will be stuck in a world that is not your own. As I have been, my gracious lord."

"So what does it mean," Harry frowned, "Am I to become a wad to clog a pore in the Universe?"

"I am afraid, it means that you came here in order to fulfil your destiny. Therefore your involvement with the Horcruxes was inevitable."

"No, I didn't! I can't lie to you about it, remember?"

"You must have already untwined Skuld's thread, so to speak, when you embraced your destiny in your own world, dear boy," Dumbledore said sombrely.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**:

**Warning**: there is a mention (non-graphic) of abuse and a few other shockers in this chapter. **Warning inside the warning**: despite Harry's jumping to conclusions initially, Sirius-related shocker had _nothing_ to do with sexual fetishes.

Please, review!

Chapter 4

They were sitting at the Grimauld Place kitchen table, eating muggle Indian take-away and drinking elf-made wine. After the eventful day Harry wasn't in the mood to talk, Sirius guessed. Or maybe he just was a brooder. Though that must have been the result of his upbringing, for neither James nor Lily were that big on introspection.

"I'll have to leave you to your own devices for a few days at least," Sirius said eventually. "I hope you'll relocate to the Manor, once Dumbledore sorts out your new identity, by the way. Or even before that, really. The Manor is well protected…"

Harry nodded absently. The question of his new identity proved to be an unnecessary thorny one in Sirius's opinion. Harry had flat out refused to figure as James's love child on the grounds that it would tarnish James's character. Judging by Prongs's expression he was touched and exasperated in equal measure. Personally Sirius believed that his friend wouldn't mind notoriety, as long as he could claim Harry as his. His own suggestion that he could easily handle a bit of scandal elicited an eloquent eye-roll from Harry. "That's even worse," the boy had said, "Everybody will just think that you cover up for James." So it was left to Dumbledore and his allies in the Ministry to concoct a convenient squib Potter relative and find a suitably obscure school that Harry could have attended. Sirius suppressed a smirk. Of course everyone would still think Harry was James's! Was the boy really that unworldly not to realise that? After all, inventing squib relatives was a time honoured method of legitimizing bastards….

Harry sipped his drink thoughtfully.

"You know," he said at last, "My godfather left me everything he owned. That included this house, Kreacher, and some gold. No Manor. I wonder if it even exists in my world…"

"Sure does. He probably himself never inherited it. Come to think of it, there's no way my grandfather would have named him an heir, if he was locked up in Azkaban."

"I thought you, Blacks, have got some sort of magical entail going?"

"Yeah, we have. It can be broken, though. Difficult, but not impossible."

"How come he inherited this house then?"

"The townhouse has never been part of the entail, for one thing. In fact, my father received it in lieu of dowry, that's why Kreacher recognized my mother's authority above everyone else's… I take it, Regulus is dead in your world as well?"

"Yeah. He died very young."

"Then most likely my father never bothered with the will. He never did here too. Since he died intestate and I was the only surviving heir of his body I inherited outright."

"Oh. I wonder who then… Wait a moment! Where _is_ this Manor of yours?"

"Wiltshire."

Suddenly Harry burst laughing. "Oh, no! So when Draco was bragging about his 'Wiltshire mansion' it was the Black Manor all along!" Abruptly he stopped laughing and frowned. "Does that mean," he sad slowly, "that you own Dobby?!"

Sirius fought the undignified urge to squirm under Harry's intense stare.

"Of course not," he said firmly. "You told us he was your friend. I wouldn't hide it from you if I owned him."

"So the Malfoys have other properties?"

"Sure. My uncle would have never agreed to the alliance, if Malfoy's pockets hadn't been deep enough. Nothing to compare with the Manor of course."

Harry poured himself some more wine.

"I, eh, don't have a lot of fond memories of the place," he said apologetically. "So I'd just as soon stayed here for the time being."

Sirius nodded, trying not to show his disappointment.

"I am surprised you've even been there at all," he prompted.

"My friends and I were held prisoners there. Dobby helped us to escape. Bellatrix killed him just as he was apparating me to safety."

Sirius grimaced.

"No wonder you said you could kill her."

"Oh, that wouldn't be the only score to settle," Harry said angrily. "She killed my godfather as well."

"No way!"

"What, you think she couldn't? Or wouldn't?"

"I'd like to say she couldn't"

"Well, she did. Got him square in the chest just as he was busy taunting her." Sirius couldn't decide whether Harry was angry with him or his cousin.

"The last time I mocked an opponent was at Hogwarts."

"And his name was Snape?"

Sirius suppressed an irritated retort.

"Odds are, it was," he said mildly.

"You don't like Lily either?" Harry's tone was non-committal.

Sirius sighed.

"I would have liked her well enough," he said carefully, "if she hadn't gone and married that git."

"Weird though," Harry obviously decided to abandon the uncomfortable topic, "it seems that in my world _both_ sides used Black properties as their headquarters."

"Well, that makes sense. Not to sound conceited, but we'd been around longer than most families. Every generation have added their bit to the defences. Both the Manor and the house are well nigh impregnable."

"Then how could Dobby apparate and dissaparate on the premises even after he'd been freed?"

"Well, that's odd. You said, you'd tricked Lucius into freeing him?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, if he just gave him cloths without putting certain safeguards first it might have left the manor vulnerable," Sirius was trying to sound dispassionate, but inwardly he was seething at the thought of Malfoy lording over _his_ home. Contaminating it with that snake presence…

"I saw Crouch sacking his elf once," Harry pursued. "He didn't perform any magic, just gave her his glove. Mind you, she _was_ fanatically loyal, but he couldn't have been completely sure that she wouldn't blab, could he? And he had some juicy secrets to hide…"

"He might have planted the necessary protection when he admitted her in his confidence," Sirius shrugged.

"Urh. The whole thing is really fucked-up," Harry grumbled.

Sirius didn't comment. Harry was Lily's son and therefore likely to have issues with house-elves. He still remembered how appalled Evans had been, when the truth of Hogwarts maintenance had finally dawned on her. He would rather not argue the issue with Harry.

"I wonder if Phineas Nigellus spied on the Malfoys for Dumbledore," Harry said musingly.

"That old coot would sooner spy _for_ the Malfoys," Sirius snorted.

"The portraits' allegiance is to the Headmaster of Hogwarts," Harry reminded him.

"Yes, and elves' allegiance is to their master," Sirius retorted. "If a brainless old git like Kreacher could betray your godfather, I bet you my favourite Granian mare, a Black will always find a loophole to get his way."

Harry nodded absently relapsing back into a brooding silence.

"So what has Dumbledore already guessed about your wand?" Sirius asked.

"It's brother to Voldemort's"

"Really? Odd to think a phoenix feather channelling so much Dark magic. What does it mean in practical terms?"

"In practical terms it's impractical. They wouldn't work against each other properly. We were both wielding other peoples' wands when we met in the end."

"So you'll need another wand?"

Harry cocked his eyebrow sardonically. Sirius sighed. He'd have to tread carefully around the issue.

"Look, I stand by what I said. It's not your fight, and I don't care what some Nordic weirdo thought he knew about Norns and their threads millennia ago. Besides, it doesn't fit, since you didn't _choose_ any of that back home or here, whatever Dumbledore may say. But it wouldn't hurt to be prepared just in case. You already had to deal with one Horcrux, after all. I've got quite a collection of old wands at the Manor. You'd be able to find one that works tolerably for you, surely. You are part Black yourself…"

"I suppose… Thanks, I'll think about it."

"You do it." Sirius paused and then said cautiously, "You can drop in whenever you want. I could add you to the wards, in case I am not at home. I know you don't like to give your blood…"

Without a word Harry flicked his wand at his arm cutting a vein. Sirius winced; that must've hurt.

"Thanks," he accepted a small vial of blood from Harry and then wrapped his palm around the wound. It closed almost immediately.

"You have a Touch!" Harry exclaimed surprised. "I didn't know that about my godfather…"

"It's not really a Healer's Touch," Sirius disclaimed. "I can only deal with cuts and burns, that sort of thing. Though that's handy too."

"I'll say!" Harry grinned reminiscently. "Thanks, and er, thanks for trusting me with the wards…"

"Well, you trust me with your blood," Sirius reminded, feeling inordinately pleased about the fact. "It's only fair."

Sirius was half through a letter from the Gringotts Head Goblin when the fireplace in his study blazed and a very tired and distraught looking Remus poked in.

"Are you busy, Sirius?" he called.

"You know me, I am never too busy. Come on in, Rem." Sirius strolled to the wine cabinet, fetched a bottle of Ogden and summoned glasses. "How hungry you are? I ordered dinner in an hour, but we could have a snack before that…"

The werewolf came out the fireplace and shook off the sooth.

"Are you alone?" he asked anxiously, ignoring Sirius's speech.

"Yeah. What is it?"

"I've come to give you this," Remus held up his wand. "Could you keep it until after the next full moon? I am spending a few weeks with Greyback's pack again. I'll come to you as soon as I can afterwards, and you'll give it back to me… if you judge it prudent."

"Excuse me?!"

Remus didn't look at him.

"You must've noticed how quickly I am deteriorating," he whispered.

Sirius felt sick.

"There's no need for drastic measures, surely? James has gone all salt-and-pepper, and he's still got his part-Veela. There's nothing to it."

"Don't pretend to misunderstand me, Sirius! I don't _remember_ the last full moon adventure, but I could _feel_ that it was different! Don't tell me you didn't!"

"It's been a long time since we ran together. And we _all_ have changed; it makes sense that we'd need time to adjust to one another…"

"Come on, Sirius, you know better. The more time I spend with Greyback's pack, the less human I feel. The whole experience chips at my sanity. The full moons there… I don't remember what is it we do exactly, and can't bear to think of it…" To Sirius's horror, he realised that Remus was crying.

"Remus,…" he put down glasses, and forced his exhausted friend into a chair. "You don't think you've infected someone?" he asked bluntly, as he crouched at his eye level.

"No," Remus laughed hollowly. "Though I couldn't do a thing to prevent it. You see, when Greyback hunts, he does it alone… The entire pack would be too conspicuous… It's just… it's something akin to an orgy. Oh, Merlin, whom do I try to fool! They are orgies! We aren't at all that particular in that state," he said bitterly. "There are females werewolves in the pack too. Though one of them didn't survive last time," he added on an anguished whisper.

"Sweet Merlin!" Sirius grasped Remus hands. "You are not going back, Remus," he said firmly. "Dumbledore can't ask it from you. No one can."

Remus closed his eyes tiredly.

"No," he said. "I am going. Greyback is Voldemort's ally. He is constantly in contact with Death Eaters, even senior ones. We can't waste this opportunity." He looked sadly at Sirius. "It is probably my only chance to do something useful for the cause… And I owe everything to Dumbledore," he smiled slightly at Sirius's indignant expression. "To you and James too, of course. But it was Dumbledore, who offered me a chance to live as a human."

Sirius poked his head into Remus's room cautiously and withdrew. It seems that the werewolf had finally succumbed to the exhausted sleep. Sirius knew there wouldn't be any sleep for himself now. Not for some time. How could Dumbledore be so damn callous? The leader of the Light, my foot! Offering someone a chance to live as a human only to demand that humanity back in payment by instalments! But as he settled in his favourite armchair in the study he acknowledged that it was him, not Dumbledore he was really raging at. It was his own damn fault that Remus was reduced to being a pariah, living at the edges of society.

By the time he'd inherited his position Sirius had already had a well deserved reputation for arrogance. He'd been brilliant, talented, rich and handsome, much admired, much sought-after. And with a brand new seat in the Wizengamot he'd thought it would be a peace of cake to right all the wrongs where werewolves were concerned. Well, he'd miscalculated badly, and his mistake cost his friend (to say nothing of all the other werewolves) a chance at _life_. The fact that in Harry's world Remus could legally _marry_ and have a _child_ drove it home as nothing else did. _Without me in the picture, without my inept pigheaded meddling, Remus could live a live, have a family_. He still marvelled sometimes that Moony was even on speaking terms with him, let along considered him his friend. It wasn't even the only time when Sirius had let him down. There was that Shrieking Shack incident as well.

He still couldn't think about that debacle without the sticky feeling of self-disgust washing over him. It's not that he felt particularly badly about the murder attempt per se. He was a Black, he'd always known what he was capable of. If anything, given his legacy and a five-year stint in the Law Enforcement under Crouch, it was a bit odd that he _hadn't_ killed anyone. Perhaps the fact that Crouch's self-righteousness had invariably put his teeth on edge had something to do with that. In any case, he had never felt that guilty about Snape. After all, he'd always known that Snape was bad news. And he'd been particularly bad news for James and his chances at happiness.

No, it was his cowardly traitorous decision to use Remus, his friend, someone he should have protected. That was the reason he could never forgive himself. Gentle, kind, level headed Remus, whose worst nightmare had always been damning another person to the same fate. Remus, who would have had to face the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, if it hadn't been for James's timely rescue. It had been the only time when he'd quarrelled with both James and Remus (the rat, too, was quick to side with the majority) and back then it had seemed that his exclusion from the marauders would be permanent.

When he'd come home for the spring holidays his parents had already been brought up to speed by Dumbledore. To this day Sirius wasn't sure why the old headmaster hadn't booted him out of Hogwarts altogether. Perhaps it had something to do with the need for secrecy. He might have thought that by allowing Sirius to stay he'd ensured that he won't talk about Remus's lycanthropy. _Protected Moony from _me. Sirius clenched and unclenched his fists.

His parents had never cared about Remus one way or another, but they had been scandalized about the whole "attempt on a Slytherin student life" thing. And it hadn't been like them, in any case, to pass up an opportunity to bring their unmanageable firstborn down a few pegs. Sirius had been told to strip and submit to his punishment.

He'd been already on the cusp of manhood at sixteen and powerful magically. And he hadn't put much stock in the idea of being a Black heir. As far as he'd been concerned, Reg could have had it all with his blessing. He could have defied his parents, could have fought them even. Instead he'd submitted. Because he'd known he'd deserved everything they had had in store for him, and more.

Later that night he'd crawled out of the house and had spent the remaining gold on the Knight Bus. He'd known James wouldn't turn him out on the street in such state, and he'd had no pride left, not if he could have had a chance to talk to him. To apologise, to explain… Though he couldn't have explained his actions even to himself. Still couldn't. In the end he'd only had enough energy to collapse in James's arms, being only dimly aware of his friend's hollering frantically for dittany, Skele-Gro, anything. And just like that they'd been best mates again. Without apologies, explanations, soul-searching… Better than that, they'd been brothers, sharing the house and everything in it… The news about disownment and disinheritance had washed over Sirius without denting his newfound happiness any. James had mediated the rapprochement with Remus, the marauders had been now closer than ever… But he had learned his lesson back then: there was no forgiveness without punishment, not for him.

Lying prone under an old gnarled oak Sirius was attempting to calculate how far from the Manor he had landed. At least he'd made it inside the wards, he reasoned, that was a small triumph in itself. Heck, he could have easily splinched in the state he was… He tried to sit, but his battered body refused to listen. Fair enough. He'd just have to wait here for a while, it wouldn't be too bad. Maybe he could heal some of the welts? His Touch never quite worked when used on himself. If the worst came to worst he could always summon an elf and ask for the essence of dittany… A bird darted over him and next moment Harry was crouching before him and shaking at his shoulder.

"Sirius! What happened?! Who did that to you?" Harry sounded frantic with worry.

"No one," grimacing Sirius hauled himself into a sitting position. "I'll be fine."

"Like hell you will! Don't insult my intelligence. You've got blood all over… What the hell?" Harry protested, as Sirius tried to shake off his hand and stop him from examining his back. "Sirius, let me help!"

"Harry, I promise you, it's nothing. Let's get to the Manor, and I'll presently sort it out."

Harry was staring at him incomprehensibly.

"It looks like muggle flogging," he said slowly. "Who'd do that to you?"

Sirius closed his eyes in defeat.

"I do." He opened his eyes looked right in the confused green ones. "If you must know, I pay a muggle to it. I am sorry you've stumbled on me like that."

Harry's face was a study in confusion and shock, before all emotion was wiped from it and the familiar vacant mask was slammed on. There was a short uncomfortable pause. Sirius sighed.

"Look, I am sorry—" he started, but Harry interjected.

"These are serious wounds," he said. "I bet you can't heal them without dittany. Surely it's not supposed to be like that."

"What is not supposed to be like that?"

Harry blushed.

"BDSM or whatever it is you are doing," he ploughed on stubbornly.

"'BDSM'?" Sirius repeated, mildly interested. "Is it a muggle term for kinks? I don't pay for sex, Harry. I can still get it for free…"

"Then what?..."

"I am sorry, but it's none of your business. Will you help me to the house, please?"

They were sitting in the study, Sirius having been hastily patched up by Dotty, the head house-elf, Harry sitting stiffly in the chair so recently occupied by Remus. Sirius dismissed the thought. He couldn't think of Remus when he had this present crisis to deal with.

"Look, I won't blame you if you feel appalled by what you saw," he handed Harry a tumbler, trying not to wince as he moved. Dittany had healed the scars, but his body was still reeling from the abuse it'd been subjected to. "But it doesn't mean that your godfather indulged in this sort of thing. As you said, we've had different experiences."

"Yeah? And which one of your experiences made you so bloody guilty? And don't say it's not my business. You are the one who brought it up!"

Sirius stared thoughtfully at his tumbler.

"Have you never felt 'bloody guilty' about anything?"

"Oh yeah," Harry was looking at him strangely. "I have."

"And have you ever hired anyone to trash you?"

"No."

"See? We are all coping in our own way. It's not a rational thing."

"Oh, I don't know," suddenly Harry's face was incandescent with fury. "Perhaps you can put me in touch with that obliging muggle. Or beat the shit out of me for free."

Sirius felt swirls of wild magic emanating from Harry and tried to suppress his own irritation.

"I'll do neither," he said curtly. "If you would just come to the point?"

"Point?" Harry laughed hysterically. Sirius felt his hairs standing on end. If Harry lost control of his magic he was by no means sure he could subdue him. "I am discussing guilt and punishment with someone I got killed. I wish I knew what the point is!"

"Harry," Sirius said carefully. "I saw that memory, remember? It is pretty obvious that it wasn't your fault."

"I thought we just established that it's not rational?" Harry was shaking, Sirius saw, and magic around him fairly crackled. "Besides, it was!"

Flinging all caution to the wind, Sirius leaned over the boy invading his personal space.

"I am glad I haven't lived you godfather's life," he said quietly his face inches from Harry, "But wouldn't mind dying like him. Fighting for someone I love."

The magical currents abruptly subsided and Harry's face crumpled.

"Sirius," he murmured, "could you… No, I am sorry."

"Oh, come on," Sirius rolled his eyes. "You know my sordid secret now. What is it?"

Harry swallowed.

"Could you turn into Padfood?" he whispered brokenly.

Sirius lowered himself cautiously at the exquisitely laid out breakfast table. He was still feeling sore after the day before. Even his hand to eye coordination seemed to be slightly impaired. Hmm. That was a new one. Perhaps he should adjust the 'penance' routine, after all. Then again, maybe he felt so disoriented because of what had transpired in the study last night. Even in his human form he thought he could still feel Harry's fingers clutching at Padfoot's pelt for dear life, as waves after waves of intense grief radiated from the boy's kneeling form. Thank Merlin, Padfoot was exactly what Harry had needed to finally let go, because Sirius was a Black, which meant that as a human being he'd be useless in such situation. He was no good at handling his own emotions, let along someone else's. Certainly he'd been no use for James… Or Remus more recently… Well. Whatever else, at least one good thing had come from the whole dimension-travelling predicament. For last night Harry had finally shed tears that wouldn't come five years ago when his godfather had died.

"Hello," Harry sounded a bit uncertain. Well, after last night's emotional storm some awkwardness was inevitable.

"Hey," Sirius tried to put him at ease, "you find your way OK?"

"Dotty led me halfway to the terrace," Harry grabbed the coffee-pot. "Do you always breakfast in high style?"

"Only when I want to impress. I know you don't like the place, but you didn't' really see it, Harry. Besides it probably looks different anyway. Malfoy likely changed things…" The bastard.

"Yeah, I bet you don't keep white peacocks here."

"What?!"

Harry looked up and burst laughing. Sirius's heart twisted. Over decades he catalogued every James's smirk, grin and smile. He'd used to spend sleepless nights when Prongs had been away conjuring them in his mind eye, pining… But he never thought much about his laugh one way or another. Harry was so much like James in many ways, but his laugh was different, and he'd looked utterly beautiful just now.

"You should have seen your face!" Harry was finally able to utter.

"Well, what do you expect? Peacocks, I ask you!"

"Do you have pets? Apart from that mare?"

"I wouldn't call Nell a pet exactly. You ride?"

"I prefer brooms."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "_Have_ you ever ridden a winged horse?"

"I rode a Thestral and a Hyppogrif."

"My, my. Aren't you an eccentric."

"I am not an eccentric," Harry grumbled as he was piling bacon rushers on his plate. "Some of my friends are eccentrics, I suppose."

"You know what they say of the company you keep…"

Harry ignored the jibe. "My godfather had a flying motorbike. Do you?"

"Yeah. Haven't flown it in ages, though." Ever since James had left for Mexico, in fact.

Harry cast an admiring look at the view.

"It is beautiful", he smiled at Sirius. "I can see why Draco wouldn't shut up about the place. I never knew there was a lake as well… Wonder if it exists back home."

"I bet it does," Sirius launched into a lecturing mode. "It was a moat originally. The place was initially a castle. When Leo Black bought the land in the fourteenth century he built the first manor over it and converted the moat into a lake. Some of the original structure still exists even now. I'll show you."

"I think I've probably seen it."

Sirius grimaced. "Not if you mean the dungeons," he said. "That's a relatively recent addition, actually. Scorpius Black a few generations back fancied himself a romantic. He is responsible for that fake gothic tower, the dungeons and some other stuff. He would have reinstated the moat too complete with drawbridges, but his wife put her foot down, thank Merlin."

"Yeah, that would be a pity…" Harry looked at him curiously. "Don't you feel the pressure to continue the line and all that?"

"I do," Sirius sighed. "In fact, I will probably marry in not so distant future. I have a standing agreement with my little cousin, that if she's still on the market when she hits thirty we'll tie the knot."

"What?! You want to marry Tonks?!"

"We aren't too closely related," Sirius said defensively. Not by the Black standards anyway. "Besides, she's half-blood; that ought to give a jolt to the old gene-pool."

"Why the hold-up, then?" Harry didn't look up from his cup.

"She fancies someone," Sirius shrugged. "I doubt anything will come of it, though. We made our pact a couple of years ago, and she is still single."

"You don't know who he is?"

"No. Do you?"

"I haven't even met her here, remember?"

"Oh, come now, Harry. You may as well tell me. I am hardly a jealous fiancé type. I might even play matchmaker, unless it is someone unsuitable."

"How do you define 'unsuitable'?"

"Snape would be top of the list, but he's taken. I suppose I wouldn't encourage her if the guy is married already. Other than that…. I can't see her pining for a Death Eater…"

"How about a werewolf?"

"You mean…. _Remus_?!" Sirius exhaled. "Then your godson…?"

"Teddy is a metamorphomagus."

Sirius felt like he was punched in the gut.

"Not a werewolf?"

"No, lycanthropy isn't hereditary."

"It could be. Your Teddy must have been lucky."

"My friend who is a right genius has done a lot of research on the subject. It seems that lycanthropy only transmitted through bites like rabies or malaria."

Sirius shook his head. "I have seen werewolves' cubs, Harry." He'd resigned his position as an Auror after that particular assignment.

"That's different." Harry grimaced. "If a female werewolf is impregnated during a full moon she stays in the wolf form until she, uh, gives birth or, rather, until the cubs are weaned. But the intercourse with a werewolf in human form is safe."

Sirius felt really sick.

"I know, it's ghastly," Harry nodded seeing his expression. "But it's barely ever happens now thanks to the Wolfsbane Potion."

"Wolfsbane Potion?" Sirius repeated stupidly.

They were back in the study, Harry lounging in the chair and Sirius pacing to and fro.

"I am telling you, Sirius, I am pants at Potions!"

"You can't be that bad! You'd need at least 'E' to get into the Auror program."

"I never even attended my seventh year, let alone sat the NEWTs"

"What? How's that possible?"

"I was kinda busy hunting Horcruxes and evading capture. Besides Hogwarts was turned into a Death Eater training camp after Dumbledore was killed. After the war the new minister offered me and my friend a place in the Auror training program right away."

"I bet he did. Good publicity."

"Whatever, I worked hard," Harry said defensively. "I passed all tests with distinction, if you must know."

"I know. None better, in fact, since I duelled you," Sirius smiled apologetically. "Still, as a trained Auror you should know basics at least."

"I keep telling you, Wolfsbane is no basics! It's one of the most complex potions there is!" Harry paused to take a breath. "It was invented by Damocles Belby in my world. Perhaps he's still working on it or something? If we contacted him…"

"He was killed off in the eighties," Sirius said impatiently. "Look, I know Remus hasn't been exactly welcoming to you…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Harry sounded exasperated, "how petty do you think I am? I just don't feel competent enough to attempt the thing."

"You don't need to be competent. Just tell Lily what you _do _remember, and let her sort out the rest!"

"I suppose it could work," Harry said doubtfully. "Pity, Snape is out cold."

"I like him best when he's out cold," Sirius grumbled.

"He's a genius at Potions though," Harry pointed out.

"Lily's every bit as brilliant," Sirius dismissed. "Right. There is no time like present."

He strolled to the fireplace and summoned the Snapes' lab at St. Mungo's. Lily wasn't there however, so he tried her house instead.

"Hello," a melodic contralto replied. Sirius did a double take.

Last time he saw Snape's daughter her face was spotty and sulky and her figure awkwardly angular. Now that her skin was unblemished he could see that she'd actually inherited Lily's porcelain rather than Snivelly's sallow. No girl with such beak for a nose could ever be called pretty, Sirius thought, but all in all with her glossy black locks, fathomless dark eyes, sensual mouth and elegant long-limbed body the little snakeling had grown into quite a striking creature. Moreover there was certain air about her. Calm authority with just enough showmanship to make things interesting. Thoroughly unsettled by the discovery Sirius strove for nonchalance.

"Hey, Ivy. Is your mum about?"

"No, this is Tuesday. Her day for doing unthinkable with the Unspeakables."

Right. Belatedly Sirius remembered that the Snapes developed projects in conjunction with the Department of Mysteries.

"Do you know when she is likely to be back?"

"Late."

"That tells me a lot, thanks. Tell her I'll call back late then, will you?"

"Aren't you going to ask me how my dad is doing?"

Did the chit think she could play games with him? She'd need to grow up a bit more for that sort of thing.

"I assume there no changes. That's the point of the potion he used, right?"

"Indeed. And will you tell me how is my brother adjusting to his new reality?"

"He's not you brother," Sirius retorted mechanically. What in the name of the Great Four had Evans been thinking to have discussed the Order business with her kids?

"No?" the full mouth twisted into a very Snape-like sneer. "I think the blood tests will point otherwise."

"Hello," Harry had obviously decided to join the conversation and crouched before the fireplace next to Sirius. Then his eyes widened and his face became a mask of fury.

"You!" he breathed as he took in the girl's appearance.


	5. Chapter 5

AU Chapter 5

They were congregated in the Headmaster's Office again. Plus the Snakeling, minus Remus, who had already gone to join the Greyback's Pack. What is the point of having the headquarters in London, if they all end up in Hogwarts anyway, Sirius mused.

"When did you realise that you are a Dreamdrifter, Miss Snape?" Dumbledore asked sternly. Lily looked haggard and scared. For once Sirius didn't have the heart for shadenfreude.

"Will anyone explain to me what a Dreamdrifter is?" Harry groused.

"It is what it sounds like," the girl said with aplomb. "It's a magical talent. Said to run in the Princes family. Well, used to run. Basically you show up in other people's dreams."

Harry opened his mouth no doubt to ask a follow-up, but Lily talked over him.

"Will anyone explain to me what's going on? Even if Ivy somehow inherited the mythical Prince family talent, how does it concern Harry? Ivy couldn't show up in _his_ dreams, surely?"

"Well, she did," Harry replied grimly. "I kept dreaming about her for about a year."

"What?!"

"It wasn't anything naughty, you know," Harry was actually blushing. "She'd just turn up and start nosing around…"

"Let's start from the beginning," Dumbledore interjected. "Miss Snape, how and when did your talent manifest itself?"

"It was just usual silly stuff," the girl shrugged with affected nonchalance. "I suddenly found myself in the middle of Dennis Creevey's wet dream about someone else…."

"Ivy!"

"It's true, mum. I was myself embarrassed. And I never even fancied him!"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I wasn't sure. I tried to experiment some at first."

"And what did you 'experiments' entail, missy?" Moody growled.

"Well, I'd invite some of Mark's friends to brag about their pranks. They'd never do it normally, not to me, that is, but they figured it was safe, since they were dreaming anyway. I'd make sure that they knew they were dreaming. Of course it's not something I could use more than once with each of them, and I had to space the sessions. And I got Creevey to propose to Jessica…"

"Great," Harry grumbled.

"What? He fancied her anyway."

"Creevey is a muggleborn, right? He wouldn't know about Dreamdrifters, much less the Prince family. Easy for you to manipulate!" Harry sounded annoyed.

"I can't bend people to my will! All I do is to show up and talk to them!"

"Yeah? How come I am here now then?"

"Don't point at me; it was your doing!"

"Bullshit! Why would I go to the world where I've no place?! Filled with copies of people I've loved and mourned? Tell me that!"

"Harry!" Lily sounded distressed. "Please, it doesn't help. Ivy how could you possibly find Harry? And why did you never say anything? If you've been haunting his dreams for a year…"

"I don't know how! One day I just wandered into his dream. And then I was sort of … hooked. It didn't take me long to put two and two together. I tried to find literature on the subject, but no one that I know of ever mentioned cross-dimensional dreamdrifting..."

"Don't tell me, you just 'drift' harmlessly! You've lured me here somehow…"

"I did _not_! The boot is on the other foot! I had no idea such things were even possible."

"Well, it seems we are at an impasse," Sirius said. "I think there is only one thing we can realistically do. Ivy should be subjected to an interrogation under Veritaserum."

"It won't do you any good," the girl said triumphantly, before Lily had a chance to intervene. "I am immune to it."

"Is it even possible?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Oh yes, Snape and Lily here invented the stuff. The entire Order had been inoculated. Of course we never dreamed that they would include their kids as well." Sirius looked at Lily pointedly.

"Of course we did—" Lily was on the verge of tears, but still stared the rest of the order down. "We are putting our kids at risk by being part of the Resistance. The least we can do is to provide them with the best defences in our arsenal!"

"Outrageous!" Moody was looking as incensed, as Sirius felt.

"Well, it makes sense, actually," Harry said, who'd calmed down somewhat, Sirius noticed. "It's not like Voldemort or Death Eaters are likely to make allowances for kids being underage. Anyone is fair game for them. In fact, if they want secrets they might try kids first."

Lily shuddered.

"Kids aren't supposed to _know_ any valuable secrets," Moody growled. "Or did your parents discuss the Order business with you as well?" He turned to Ivy.

"Oh, please," Harry dismissed, before Ivy had the chance to respond. "You can't live in the same house with curious teens and hope to keep everything secret. I spent several weeks at the headquarters in my fifth year, and you wouldn't believe what sort of stuff my friends and I managed to discover. Even _after_ Mrs. Waesley put an Imperturbable on the kitchen door. Besides, sometimes even non secret perfectly harmless on the surface bits and pieces can prove detrimental. That's how Voldemort laid a trap for my godfather and me…"

"That's all very well," Moody shrugged, "but it leaves us at a quandary. We'll just have to legilimence her."

"Try it, and I activate my capsule! Same as Dad did!"

"Ivy! You can't have this thing inside you!"

"Well, I do. I stumbled onto Dad when he was experimenting with them, and talked him into giving one to me. Told him, I'd generally have more chances to survive if I had an option to play dead."

"Think you have us all at disadvantage, do you? Well let me tell you, missy, you'll have to get up a tad earlier to keep up with an old hand like me!" Moody silenced the girl with an expert flick of his wand, and then disarmed her, before she had chance to try to react. "Try, and activate it now!" he crowed.

Lily whirled around at him, clutching her wand convulsively. James looked grim.

"Wait," Harry said hurriedly. "There is no need for mind invasions, not at this stage, anyway. I could show you these dreams in the Pensieve. They were remarkably lucid… If we find something fishy, we could always come back to it later. Besides, Snape would train his kids in Occlumency, for sure." Ivy, who for once looked scared, nodded fervently.

"I'd rather not show them for everyone, though," Harry said awkwardly. "If the Headmaster agrees to review them—"

"No," Lily said resolutely. "I insist on viewing them too."

"There is no point of creating second and first class citizens here, lad. This is not just your or the girl's life on the line. The entire Order might be compromised. I say, let's see them. We are all adults here, we understand that dreams aren't always tidy," Moody said.

"I agree with Alistair, Harry," Dumbledore concurred. "We appreciate you reticence, but too much is at stake. I cannot compel you of course…"

"Bet, you could," Moody snorted.

"I am not so sure. In any case, I won't."

"Oh, very well…" Harry sighed. "Go ahead, trample on my dreams…"

He strolled to Dumbledore's desk, and as the headmaster put the familiar stone basin Harry put a few silver strands there. "Here you go."

They were in a dimly lit Great Hall, and it was in ruins. And there were rows upon rows of corpses lying on the floor. The Order members, students… Sirius's heart lodged somewhere in his throat when he saw Harry sitting on the floor beside the bodies of Remus and his little cousin. Staring. Suddenly Ivy appeared on the scene. She was looking more like an Ivy Sirius remembered from before, all awkward angles and pimples. She was barefoot and wearing paisley pyjamas.

"Hello," she said tentatively, trying not to look at the bodies.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just thought I'd come to the Great Hall…"

Harry goggled at her, as if she were mad, than frowned.

"Who are you? You seem familiar, but I can't place you…"

"I am Ivy."

"Ivy. Which house are you in?"

"Slytherin."

"Yeah? How come you didn't go with your house-mates? Stayed in hope to deliver me to Voldemort, did you?" he sneered.

"Not every Slytherin supports Voldemort," the girl retorted hotly. Evidently, she had yet to acquire her poise at that stage.

"They sure as hell didn't support _us_," Harry snorted. "Except for Snape…. Snape!" Ivy's eyes widened as Harry said her name, but he didn't notice. He jumped to his feet in some preoccupation and started to look around himself fretfully. "He's not here! I should have retrieved his body…Damn it!"

"What do you mean, 'his body'?!" the girl demanded shrilly. "He's not dead!"

"He is," Harry asserted grimly. "I saw Voldemort killing him. Watched him die…Damn, Damn! I must get his body, before some fucking spider eats it!" He rushed to the exit, Ivy following closely, her eyes welling.

"Harry!" they both turned.

A very pretty curvy redhead was kneeling at the body of a ginger boy. Or, rather, a young man. They were obviously siblings, and she looked devastated, her face tear streaked.

"Ginny!"

Forgetting all about Snape and his daughter, Harry run to the redhead, fell to his knees pressed her to him in a crushing hug.

"Ginny, please, Ginny, oh, please, I am so sorry, so sorry, please don't hate me…" as he was murmuring he framed her face with his fingers and started to kiss her tears away. Ivy goggled at the scene at once distraught and embarrassed. Then, suddenly, the two started kissing hungrily and the dream ended.

They were now at the King's Cross station. Though Sirius couldn't remember it ever being so clean or so devoid of people. Which was just as well, because Harry was strolling around blatantly gorgeously starkly naked. Sirius mentally gave Moody his fervent thanks for making this bit of harmless voyeurism for the Greater Good possible.

"Quite an exhibitionist, aren't you?" Ivy commented sarcastically. Sirius glanced at the girl. Getting rid of spots obviously added to her overall confidence, he thought somewhat snidely.

"What are you doing here?!" Harry asked confusedly. "Are you dead then?"

"Certainly not!"

"Then you shouldn't be here!"

"_You_ aren't dead, and you are here," she pointed out logically.

"That doesn't make sense," Harry frowned. "If we are both alive we've no business being here."

Suddenly a train whooshed along with almightily clamour. Harry's frown deepened.

"That's odd," he said slowly.

"Why—" Ivy started, but was interrupted as the redhead from before, this time clad scantily in something lacy, suddenly appeared and embraced Harry from behind.

"Harry," she murmured softly kissing his neck. Ivy blinked.

"Wait, Gin, I—" but the rest of the sentence was swallowed by a groan as the girl bit lightly at his earlobe, just as her hand started to trail lazily downwards. Sirius felt himself harden just as Harry in the dream did. Fortunately for his sanity and everyone else's decency at this point the dream ended.

Next they were flying. Harry, windswept, excited, huge grin on his face, was flying without any magical aid, Ivy trailing him on a broom.

"How are you _doing_ it?!" Ivy cried out.

"Obviously I've finally done it!"

"Done what?"

"Transformed! I've been training for moths now! Hermione reckons my form is likely to be something avian and she is right! As always! I must be a bird."

"No, you are not! Look at yourself. You are still human!"

Harry blinked and looked at his jeans clad limbs.

"You are right," he mumbled perplexedly, then ubruptly he started to fall.

"Wait!" scared, Ivy tried to dive after him, but Harry was falling too fast. Suddenly right before he hit the ground the dream stopped.

Then they found themselves in an empty classroom. Harry was staring intently at a big mirror. He wasn't alone; Dumbledore was perched on a desk just behind him.

"I don't understand it, Professor," Harry tuned to the old wizard, expression perturbed. "Why isn't Ginny here as well?"

"I cannot tell, Harry," the old headmaster sounded grave. "This is your heart's desire, not mine."

Sirius blinked. For one bizarre moment it seemed that Ivy was going to plop right into Dumbledore's lap, but as she did the old wizard faded and she occupied his place.

"Oh, it's you," Harry said sourly. "How did you find me here?!"

Ivy didn't answer. She was too busy staring wide-eyed at the Mirror. Sirius looked too, along with everyone else… Several people gasped.

The lawn before the cottage in Godric Hollow was littered with people. James looking more like Harry than he actually did nowadays was manning grills juggling a dozen steaks with his wand by way of flipping them. Lily was dressing salads trying and failing not to laugh at his antics. Remus looking happy and healthy, holding hands with Dora deep in an earnest discussion with an attractive brunette whose hair seemed to have a character of its own. Who was she, Sirius wondered, had Harry mistaken his heart? Not far from them he himself, or, rather, his alternate self, looking older, with lined but happy face was playing chess with another ginger, surely another brother to the conspicuously absent Ginny. _That doesn't even make sense,_ he marvelled, _I don't play chess that well_. And he, the other he, didn't either, bickering bitterly with his peaces and complaining loudly about precocious brats. Anticipating victory the ginger boy sent a secret smile to the wild-haired girl. Not Harry's then. Sirius looked at Harry in the Mirror and swallowed convulsively. Amidst laughter and gleeful shrieks he was wrestling with a purple-haired toddler in the grass.

"Are you stalking me then?" Harry asked somewhat aggressively.

"Do I look like a stalker?" the girl tore herself from the Mirror long enough to give a haughty reply. She had already completed her transformation into the dark stunner she was now.

"It's not like they all have a settled look," Harry pointed out. I am sent dozens photos every month these days. They come in all colours and sizes.

"Collecting them, are you?"

"Not really. Just never had the energy to get rid of the junk. Ginny did this Christmas. It was quite a bonfire. For a moment I almost thought Fawkes had been reborn." The reply sounded unaccountably mournful.

"So why do you think she isn't there?" Ivy nodded at the Mirror.

"It's malfunctioning, that's why," Harry said flatly. "I am more interested how can you see what I see? You can only see your own desire, not other peoples'."

"I can see what you see, because this is your dream."

"Is it now? So what the hell are you doing in my dream?"

"I—" But then an alarm cloak sounded, and the dream was over.

They were now standing on a small island in the middle of what looked like an underground lake in a sinister looking cave. Harry was positioned near a basin filled with some glowing green potion. Sirius looked at him incredulously. The boy was looking ghastly. He was pale, his eyes sunken and bloodshot, it seemed that he'd lost some weight as well. It was obvious that he'd slept in his cloths, and hadn't brushed, let along washed his hair for days. Ivy was surveying him with disapprobation.

"What's happened to you?!" she demanded. "Are you ill?"

"Just hangover. What are you doing here?"

"Can't you get you hands on some decent hangover potion?"

"What's the point? I'd just have to start all over."

"What happened? Did someone die?" she asked tentatively.

Harry looked somewhat sheepish.

"No," he sighed. "Ginny and I broke up. And Ron …" he stopped abruptly.

"That's it?!" Ivy rolled her eyes. "You've been binge drinking because of some girl you don't even want in the first place?"

"What do you know of my wants?" Harry returned sullenly.

"I saw what you saw in that Mirror, remember? She was quite literally not in the picture."

"Neither were you, so don't get your hopes up."

"Do you really think that every girl who talks to you want to get in you pants?" Ivy huffed.

"Most of them do. Quite a few boys do as well, for that matter," Harry sounded more resigned than boastful, Sirius thought. "Not that they would give me the time of the day, if I weren't a celebrity…" He ambled closer to the basin.

"What does the potion do?" Ivy squinted at it apprehensively.

"Inflicts pain and a sense of profound regret on a drinker. And thirst. It used to be the last line of Voldemort's defences for the locket," Harry added by way of clarification.

"What locket?"

"Never you mind."

Ivy shrugged.

"Whatever. You'd have to be an utter moron to drink an unknown potion."

"It can't be vanished, transfigured, evaporated etc., so it's the only way to get to the bottom of it. And it's not like there is anything else here to drink." Suddenly there was a chipped mug in Harry's hand and he moved to scoop the potion.

"Wait, what you are doing?!" Ivy launched herself on his arm and hung on it as dead weight. "You can't drink this stuff!"

"Let me be! I won't feel any more wretched than I do now!"

"Will you stop your histrionics?" For a moment Ivy sounded like her father. "The Dark Lord would laugh himself silly if you drink his poison just to get back at your ex!"

"The Dark Lord, huh? Only Death Eaters call him that. Are you one of them?" Harry shoved the girl rudely and she stumbled into the lake. Lily cried out at the same time as Ivy in the dream did, as a repulsive decomposing _dead_ hand shot out of the water and grabbed her. The next moment the entire army of _inferi_ rose out of the lake.

Harry flung his wand arm forward and hit them with Incendio. The creatures staggered for a moment, and he grabbed Ivy roughly pulling her out of the lake.

"Thanks," she started shakily, but Harry wasn't listening. He was flinging one powerful Incendio after another, long after the army of the dead was driven away. Ivy watched wide-eyed as he worked himself into a full frenzy until the entire cave looked like some medieval representation of Gehenna. Suddenly, before the fire consumed both of them, everything went black and the dream ended.

They were back at the King's Cross. It felt good somehow to see all this cheerful sparkling white (white? At King's Cross?) after the gloomy cave. Harry was looking healthier, much less gloomy now. He obviously put the crisis behind him. In fact he was looking very much as he did now in reality. Except that he was naked again. Good times.

"Why do you always go starkers in here?" Ivy wanted to know.

"You could say it is a tradition of sorts."

"Well, could you summon something to wear?" Ivy grumbled. "You aren't that much to look at," she added obviously perjuring her soul, Sirius thought.

"I haven't got my wand on me," unoffended, Harry held up his hands by way of demonstration.

"Here," Ivy conjured a comfy bathrobe, "take this."

"Slytherin colours," Harry commented, but shrugged himself into the garment anyway. It was in fact moss-green and brought out his eye colour to perfection. Sirius mentally applauded the girl's choice.

"You know," Harry said conversationally, "I tried to look you up."

"Did you?"

"Yeah… Guess what? There is no girl matching your description and called Ivy currently in Slytherin. Have you been telling me fibs, Ivy? It _is_ Ivy, by the way, is it?"

"Of course it is. And can you honestly see me anywhere _but_ in Slytherin?"

"Hmm… good point. Are you sure that you are not dead? That would explain a few things. Like why you are here for starters."

"Haven't we been through this one already?" she rolled her eyes. "You are here too, and you are not dead."

A whistling scarlet engine whooshed behind them and stopped.

"Huh." Harry looked at it frowningly. "It we are both alive it doesn't make sense."

"_Why_?!"

"Tell you what. You tell me something about your family, and I tell you how I got here for the first time."

"Um, OK. I've got a brother. He's two years older than me, a redhead, and got eyes like yours. He's a Gryffindor. His name is Aemilius, but he's usually called Mark."

"Why Mark?"

"An allusion to Lepidus."

"And what's that?"

_"Marcus Aemilius Lepidus. He was a triumvir with Octavian and Anthony. Don't you know history?"_ she huffed.

"Not really," Harry shrugged. "He'd have been tree years behind me in Hogwarts, right? And two years behind Ginny? I think I would have remembered a redhead Gryff with a ridiculous name." Dumbledore chuckled at this, but assumed a mournful demeanour as Lily glared at him.

"Oh well," Harry meanwhile said. "I'll keep to my end of the bargain, even though I am not sure that _you_ have. The first time I got here was after I'd been hit with Aveda for second time."

"And you say _I'm_ having you on!"

"It does sound far-fetched," Harry conceded. "But then, you know my story. I _am_ the only person ever to have survived the Killing Curse."

"Are you now," Ivy sounded sceptical. "So did you board the train back then?"

"Yeah…"

"And where did it take you?"

"Home, I guess."

"Where is home?"

"Where the treasure is," Harry said flippantly.

"Gringotts?" Ivy matched his tone.

"Not exactly," Harry smiled. "Where is yours?"

"London."

"I live in London too," Harry said. He looked at her thoughtfully. "Shall we board the train, and see where it takes us?"

"I am not sure, it's a good idea," Ivy was clearly still mindful of their previous adventure.

"Why not? It's a dream, right? You only ever stalk me in my dreams… If it turns into a nightmare we'll just have to wake up, won't we?"

"I guess…"

They both boarded the train and suddenly everything went dark, even though the dream didn't end. Both kids cried out trying to find each other, but nothing could be seen in the pitch dark of the compartment. Then blinding green light poured through the windows and everything ended.

"It was _your_ idea to board that train," Lily rounded on Harry as soon as they were out of the Pensive.

"But Ivy was the only one who knew we were from the different worlds," Harry reminded her.

"And you are an Auror, an adult! She didn't even want to take the train and yet you accuse her of luring you here!"

"OK, fine, I just—" Harry started warily, but James talked over him.

"He is right, Lily," he said firmly. "We must find out how Ivy located him in a different universe, and why."

Lily turned to him looking utterly betrayed, but for once James didn't shrink back in the face of her fury. "You know I am right, Lily. Even Dumbledore here wasn't sure about the veracity of the multiple worlds theory, let alone that the cross-dimensional travel was possible! And here we have a fifteen year old girl drifting to and fro at will! I don't care how brilliant Ivy is, it doesn't add up!"

There had been a time (hell, when hadn't it been, ever?) when Sirius would have given his flying bike (at the very least) to see James finally standing up to Evans. Yet watching now as her face crumpled, he rather thought the spectacle didn't exactly live up to his expectations. Lily was scared, utterly hopelessly scared, and Sirius had never seen her anything less than assured before. The change was unnerving.

"There is only one person who might know the answers," he said, tuning to the girl. She actually shrank away from him. Sirius grimaced and with a flick of his wand undid the silencing charm.

"Now look here, my girl," he said bracingly. "Don't do anything stupid, OK? We can't expect Fawkes to donate his feathers to every Slytherin in a fix."

"I want my wand back," the girl stated immediately. She managed to look defiant even as she was crying.

"I am sure you do. Now—" But Ivy was not done talking.

"I want my wand so that I could swear an Unbreakable Vow that I haven't lured _him_ anywhere," nodded in Harry's direction.

"Forget it," Harry dismissed.

"Why not? It makes sense," Moody grumbled.

Harry rounded on the old Auror.

"Have you lost your remaining marbles, Mad-Eye?" Harry bellowed at the old man, eyes blazing with fury. "What if she is lying?"

"Why would I, I am not suicidal!"

"And I know that, how?!"

"Suicidal or not, it would exclude a very disturbing possibility," Moody was not the least bit impressed with Harry's objections. "As I said it's not just yours or the girl's life on the line, so don't go all brotherly on me, Potter! We need the answers!"

"And how do you propose to get them, if she's dead?!"

"Enough!" Dumbledore's order cracked as a whip making everyone in the room sit up and listen. It wasn't often that the ancient wizard abandoned his kindly twinkling slightly dotty persona and exercised his authority in full, but when he did he could reduce grown men to their past naughty third year student selves. "It is illegal for minors to enter into magically binding contracts, Alistair. Miss Snape is underage and a student in this school. She won't be making any vows." With a wave of his wand he retuned Ivy hers.

Lily relaxed slightly, but did not completely abandon her defensive stance.

"Now then. Let us acquire and _beget a temperance. Ivy no one is going harm you, but you must understand that we need to get to the bottom of this. Now think carefully. How and why did you drift into Harry's dream for the first time?"_

"I was merely trying to apply some method to the whole drifting thing…" the girl said in a small voice. "I tried to establish a contact with people I don't know first, like muggle actors—

"Let me guess, DiCaprio, right?" Harry smirked.

"So what if I did? I can fancy whoever I want, can't I? Boys paper their rooms with posters of actresses and models and no one says a word."

"My late lamented mom sure did," Sirius commented.

"Anyway, I managed to visit a few actors and actresses. Mostly it was boring. One or two had their dreams artificially enhanced, I suspect."

"Oh dear," Lily said weakly.

"Then I thought: what if I use places rather than people? I tried muggle London, and drifted into dreams of complete strangers. And if I used famous places it was sometimes too crowded. It felt so dizzying, I got headaches. Eventually I decided to try wizarding places. But I wanted to be careful, so as not to tip someone off accidentally about the whole dreamdrifting thing. I figured the Quidditch Pitch, the Lake or even classrooms would be perhaps too risky. For all I know the Minister for Magic dreams of his Potions exam every night… So I tried innocuous places first, like corridors, kitchens etc. When I grew bold enough to try the Great Hall, I bumped into Harry…"

"So the passage of sorts had already been established, when we met," Harry said slowly. "Does that mean that I punched a hole between universes after all, untwined the Skuld's thread or whatever?" he turned to Dumbledore.

"It is possible."

"I don't see it," Sirius said stubbornly. "You are not the one who activated the Prophesy."

"What Prophesy?"

"Great job, Black. Now we'll have to obliviate her!" Moody grumbled.

"Oh, for— She didn't learn anything much," Harry huffed. "But… wait a moment!" he turned to Ivy. "How did you know that I've come here at all? You asked Sirius how I'd been adjusting to my new reality when he called…"

"I knew all about your being here because I eavesdropped. What?! Don't look at me like that, Mum! You and Dad had been in a funk for days, I was worried! Dad looked as if someone died, or was about to die or something!"

"Figures. Does you brother know about me too?"

"No, he'd been staying with friends. He only returned after Dad activated his capsule."

Lily was massaging her temples tiredly.

"Why _did_ you call, anyway?" she asked Sirius.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

They were strolling slowly and silently towards the gates. It was a companionable silence. Harry had gone with the Snapes to the St. Mungo's lab, Lily having agreed to make preliminary notes on the Wolfsbane Potion and Ivy tagging along with them. Moody wanted to discuss something tête-à-tête with Dumbledore. Somewhat to Sirius's surprise James had suggested a walk to Hogsmead instead of flooing directly to their respective homes.

"I haven't seen Fleur for quite awhile now," Sirius said eventually. "Have you decided to hide her from the rest of wizardom?"

"I have, actually. Though she'll probably get cabin fever at this rate, poor girl," James smiled. "She is pretty big with child now, you know, and apparently Veela cannot quite control their charms at that stage. Something to do with pheromones… Last time she went shopping alone she was nearly mobbed… Rescued by your cousin of all people, by the way…"

"What? Which cousin?"

"Cissy. She stopped by at Twilfitt and Tattings for a bit of retail therapy. Right in the nick of time. Never thought I would be indebted to a Malfoy, if only by marriage!"

"Well, will wonders never cease!"

"Yeah. Actually, I was going to ask… You've, um, never seemed to be affected… You won't mind playing a bodyguard occasionally? Brodrig's got a project for me, so I might be a bit busy for a few days…"

"Sure, I'd be happy to. Though it might well land us on the Prophet's Gossip pages," Sirius warned.

"As if I cared for such nonsense," James scoffed. They returned to contemplative silences again.

"Do you know if Harry is using the vault?" James asked after a while.

"Doubt it. I suspect he left the key at Grimmauld Place."

"He's bought himself some cloths though. There is no way he's been transfiguring things all along. Have you er, been subsidizing him?"

"No. Well, apart from housing him, I haven't. I guess he'd got a few galleons on him when he ended up here."

James huffed impatiently.

"That's ridiculous. What is he going to do once the supply runs out?"

"I dunno, get a job? Dumbledore will come through with the papers sooner or later."

"Right, tracing him to some squib ancestor…. No one will buy that."

"That's not the point… Have you told Fleur about him?" Sirius had been wondering for some time now.

"No. I can't tell her about him without the rest of it."

"Are you saying she doesn't know about the Order?!" Sirius exclaimed incredulously.

"She knows that I am part of some sort of a Resistance group, and that that's dangerous. I couldn't marry her without saying that much. I mean I am placing her in considerable danger merely by association. But… I don't discuss the Order business with her."

Sirius shook his head at him in disbelief.

"A good chunk of your _life_ belongs to the Order, James. It's not healthy to have so many secrets from your wife."

"I know," James sighed unhappily. "But she'd want to be involved and that would place her in a greater danger, and now with the baby I… I just won't have a moment of peace… I don't know how Snape can bear it…"

Sirius almost bit on his tongue to keep himself from retorting. Suddenly James stopped and turned to him.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Must you walk on eggshells with me?! What is it?"

"It was Lily who brought Snape to the fold, as it were, not vice versa. She received her invitation same as we did. Hell, she probably got it _before_ we did. But to do the slimeball justice, even if he had been invited first, Snape would have never decided _for_ her. He may be a complete rotter to everyone else, but they have never been anything less than full partners!"

James flinched as if Sirius slapped him physically.

"Look, I—" Sirius started.

"You are right," James said in an anguished whisper. "I am about to screw up royally again, aren't I? If I haven't already…"

"Just tell her, Prongs."

"I… I will. I'll just wait till the baby is born."

Sirius shook his head.

"Tell her now. You are already on thin ice, if you went behind her back with that vault. To shield a pregnant wife from realities of war is one thing; to exclude her from financial and family decisions is something else entirely. Wait a bit longer, and you'll sleep on a couch for the rest of your natural life."

James grimaced.

"I may have to, anyhow. Fleur inherited the Veela temper along with everything else."

"So stock on dittany," Sirius said callously.

"And perhaps on a few baubles while I am at it," James said thoughtfully.

"Honestly, James. It would only make you look guilty. Guiltier. Tell her now, and buy those baubles later."

Harry and Sirius were breakfasting 'in state' again. Sirius knew that he was showing-off shamelessly, but Harry seemed to enjoy it, so why not? Soon the weather would worsen and peaceful mornings on the terrace would become impractical, but for now he fully intended to enjoy the dog days. Especially since the breakfast was the only time when he was guaranteed to see Harry. They had to postpone the Horcrux-hunting expedition again because of some Hogwarts-related crisis (something to do with hiring a new Potions teacher), but Harry kept finding his own amusements these days. "Hunting" was his usual answer to Sirius's polite queries, and he did seem to prefer travel in his animagus form. Sirius wondered idly if the boy actually ate his kill. He still remembered how James had got him a bag of doggie treats as a joke soon after they'd finally managed their transformations. That was the only time he'd eaten as Padfoot and he had no desire to repeat the experience.

"So how did the Wolfsbane session come along?" Sirius asked.

Harry flicked a page of the Prophet absently.

"Hmm. I am hardly an expert. Lily seemed interested in the project though, so I guess it's not totally hopeless. And Ivy must have inherited their potion-related genes. She is scarily good."

She was scarily good at other things as well, Sirius thought sourly.

"She must be, to have spotted what Snape was up to with those capsules," he said aloud.

"Oh that. I am sure she was bluffing, Sirius. She could have activated it half-through Moody's little speech, if she had really had it. And she is way too smart to show the only trick up her sleeve."

Sirius frowned at the note of sincere admiration in Harry's voice.

"She's not really your sister, Harry," he reminded.

"I know she isn't. But she is still something; it's no use to pretend otherwise. I mean I know your aren't my godfather, but I still feel a kind of affinity to you. And I think you feel it too. You've added me to your blood-wards after knowing me for less than a couple of weeks, for Merlin's sake!"

Trying not to think too much what 'affinity' might mean exactly Sirius struggled to concentrate on the conversation.

"Sure," he said, "but, you know, for me you aren't a 'duplicate of someone I loved'. I've never had a godson named Harry."

"So you just like me for myself?" Harry challenged.

"That too," Sirius said truthfully. "But of course I see you as James's. It's just… I met you as an adult so I don't see you in a godfatherly light."

"My Sirius definitely saw me as my father's son too," Harry smiled crookedly. "And it's not like we had an ordinary godfather-godson relationship with him."

"Meaning?"

"We knew each other for a measly couple of years. The only times he took 'I-am-the-responsible-adult-here' tone was in his letters, I think. He never really treated me as a child. And… I believe he _wanted_ to see my father in me. Perfectly understandable of course," Harry added hastily.

"Huh," Sirius didn't like the sound of it. "Hardly fair."

"I'd like to see how fair you'd be after Azkaban," Harry bristled.

"Good point. It's a miracle he was still sane."

"He said he'd turn into Padfoot whenever the Dementors were about." Harry sighed. "He was sane and great and basically the only family I had and I loved him. But he wasn't exactly _whole_. I guess I always knew that, but seeing you now drives it home." He smiled that crooked smile again, and Sirius's heart twisted. "You don't even _look_ that much alike," he added.

There was an awkward pause as Sirius made a conscious effort to return their conversation to safer topics. Harry beat him to it.

"Does Remus have a job apart from whatever it is he's doing for the Order?"

"No. It is almost impossible for a werewolf to be legally employed under the new laws." Sirius said bitterly. _And it is my fault_.

"Can't he find a job in the muggle world?"

"He does sometimes. But it's illegal. Werewolves are classified as magical creatures, and as such are forbidden to have any contacts with muggles. He could well be executed, if his employment history became public knowledge."

"Huh," Harry frowned. "Does it concern all magical creatures?"

"Yeah. Shouldn't you know stuff like that, as an Auror?"

"It's a bit different in my world, obviously. Besides, the law is a bit fuzzy on elves. Mostly the power of the punishment lies with the owner, right? And if anything is amiss with that, it's usually in the competence of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The Auror Office doesn't normally get involved."

Elves again. Clearly it was an issue with Harry.

"Well, it is all a bit hypothetical," Sirius said cautiously. "I can't imagine a situation where an elf would compromise the Statue of Secrecy."

Harry smiled reminiscently, but didn't elaborate.

"Suppose they did?" he asked instead. "If the Obliviators were to be involved someone would have to be held responsible, right?"

Sirius shrugged.

"Depends on the circumstance. If it's only a misdemeanour, the owner would have to be fined, I imagine. If it's something really heavy, they'd probably just give the elf in question cloths and hand them to the DRCMC."

"Or just kill that elf and save everyone the bother," Harry said harshly.

"Yeah, that too. Why?"

"Hmm. No reason. Can an elf survive the DRCMC hearing?"

"Only if a witch or a wizard would step forward and took them in their household. Almost never happens though."

"Wouldn't poorer families jump at the opportunity?" Harry looked genuinely surprised.

"Well, for one thing the DRCMC hearings aren't public. They would have to know someone in the Department to even be aware of the opportunity. And even if they did… They probably

wouldn't go for it."

"Why not? They'd get to save a life and get someone to do all the ironing for free."

Sirius had to smile at Harry's logic.

"We, wizards, are very touchy when it comes to relationships with other magical beings. A disgraced elf wouldn't be welcomed in most households…."

"Hmm." Harry relapsed into silence, and sat frowning into his coffee. Sirius cast around for another topic. He really didn't want to discuss elves' rights.

"So you believe Ivy then?" he said.

"Well, I think she told the truth about how she'd stumbled onto me. Whether it is the whole truth though… I wouldn't bet on it."

"That doesn't concern you?"

"Sure does. But to be perfectly frank I am more concerned about her. I don't believe she's an enemy, much less that she's actively working for Voldemort. But… Someone could conceivably use her gift without her realising it. She says herself she met loads of strangers while drifting. Who knows who might have been among them… And the one time Voldemort lured me into a trap he did it by sending me dreams and visions…"

"All the more reason to Legilimence her."

"Have you ever been Legilimenced against your will, Sirius?"

"No."

"Well, I have been. And I don't think anyone should be subjected to it unless there is a very good reason. And, no, I don't count vague suspicions as a good reason!" Harry put his cup down with a clink. "Ok, I think I'm off. You are meeting with goblins today, right?"

"Yeah, I don't think anything will come of it, though. They pride themselves on their policy of confidentiality. Which is something I mostly glad of, as a matter of fact. Mind you, possibly having a chunk of someone's soul laying about a convicted Death Eater's vault might be counted as a special circumstance even by Goblins. Pity we can't very well give them that reason."

"So you think it's a fool's errand then?"

"We'll see."

Later that afternoon Sirius was trying to distract himself from an entirely expected failure at Gringotts by translating some runic texts mentioning Rurick the Wako or whatever was the ancient self-proclaimed dimension traveller's nickname, when suddenly James's owl flew in, two envelops in her beak.

"Bice! Hello, girl!" Sirius sent hastily for owl treats. "What have we here?"

Both envelops were inscribed in Fleur's elegant handwriting. One was addressed to 'Harry Potter'.

Somewhat apprehensively Sirius opened his. Inside was an official invitation to a family dinner on Friday. Sirius flipped the card. There was only one word on the reverse, 'Merci' and Fleur's signature.

He was still staring at the card when Dotty appeared in the study.

"Is you busy, Master?" she said uncertainly.

"Yes?" Sirius looked up surprised. He wasn't a harsh master he hoped, but it was unusual even for the head house-elf to come in without being called.

"There is a strange elf at the gate, Master. He wants to see you. Says you is wanting to know what he knows."

Sirius nearly jumped out of his chair.

"Do you know his name?"

"Dobby, Master."

"Let him in!"

The elf proved to be a bedraggled creature in a frayed pillow-case, his ears tragically drooped and his hands bandaged. He was clutching a dirty canvas sack and appeared agitated.

"You wanted to talk to me Dobby?"

"Yes, Mr. Black, Sir," the creature nodded emphatically. "Dobby is bringing you this." As he opened his sack, Sirius gasped in horror at the sight of the familiar red-tailed hawk inside. For a moment he thought that Harry was dead, but as he touched him with a shaking hand he could feel his warmth and realised that he was still alive, if only just. The bird was badly maimed and burned and was unresponsive to his touch.

"What happened?" Sirius asked hoarsely.

"Dobby cannot tell," the elf asserted tragically.

As he cradled the bird to his chest, Sirius went mentally trough his options. If it was something Malfoy-related Dobby wouldn't be able to tell anything at all. He himself, mindful of Harry's warnings about Kreacher had increased the security, placing a few more safeguards on his elves, just to be on the safe side. Clearly Malfoy wasn't quite that prudent, or Dobby wouldn't be here at all, but the creature would be still constrained by its bondage.

"Do you know what can help him?" Sirius pleaded.

"No, Mr. Black, Sir."

"Can you tell, if it was wizard or witch who did that?"

"Neither, Mr. Black, Sir." He was staring at Sirius intently, trying to convey something.

"Wards, then?"

"Not the usual ones, Sir. Dobby cannot tell more. Not about that."

"What _can_ you say?"

"Harry Potter is Dobby's _friend_, Mr Black, Sir," Dobby bobbed his head up and down for emphasis.

"Yes?..."

"Harry Potter offered _friendship_!" again that odd emphasis. Sirius was at sea.

"But that's not what injured him, is it?"

"It is, Mr. Black, Sir," the elf affirmed tragically. "Please, Sir, help Dobby's friend. Dobby must go now."

"I will do my best, Dobby. Wait! Does you master know about it? Anything at all?"

"No, Mr. Black, Sir."

"Well, that's something. Thank you, Dobby."

James was pacing to and fro, wearing off the carpet in Sirius's bedroom while Lily and Moody conversed quietly in the corner. The redhead had brought up an impressive array of healing and nutritional potions and was consulting with the old Auror about them.

Dumbledore finally finished the test readings.

"Well I think it is quite safe to change him back now," he said. "He is lucky that you were able to patch him up like this. I didn't realise your Touch can work such miracles, my boy."

"I didn't either. I am not sure it would have worked quite as well, if he'd been in his human form."

"Can't we try to wake him, while he's a bird," James asked anxiously.

"I've tried all I could think of," Dumbledore said soberly.

"Then we need to get him to St. Mungo's, and to Hell with his papers!"

"There is a residue of some very Dark Magic on him, James. We couldn't explain it in St. Mungo's even if we wanted to, since most unfortunately Harry _didn't_ inform us of his plans. And if it were something to do with Horcruxes, than we couldn't tell anything anyhow. You know what that would mean. The Department of Law Enforcement would get involved before Harry even had a chance to wake up!"

"Better be investigated than in coma!"

"He is not in any immediate danger, James. Let's change him back first, and then we can review our options. At worst he has to wait until a new batch of Mandrakes mature…"

"His condition can worsen any second! You think we can just calmly wait for months?!"

"If it worsens we'll have no other recourse but to get him to St. Mungo's. For now I suggest we wait." With that Dumbledore changed Harry back to human with a wave of his wand.

To Sirius's relief it turned out that results of his healing held. Harry's cloths were scorched and bloody, but he himself appeared unhurt. If 'unhurt' could be applied to someone in coma…

Suddenly Sirius felt almost choked with fury. So that's what Harry meant by 'hunting"! Hunting Horcruxes. How dared he go off like that on his own! It wasn't even his fight! And if he decided to fight, he shouldn't have done it alone! They were all this together, that's was the point of the Order! Except Harry wasn't really in it, was he? In either world from what he'd said. He never gave the impression to quite identify himself with the Order of the Phoenix, despite having a phoenix feather wand and being friends with Fawkes. Odd that. Wordlessly Sirius got the holly wand out of the holster on the boy's wrist put it on the bedside table, then vanished what left of Harry's clothes and got him into his own pyjamas. _Why did I have to be so damn considerate?_ Sirius raged inwardly. _I should have pressed him more. I should have insisted on tagging along. A head of an ancient and _dark_ house would have been of more use to him than an elf, however loyal! I might never even _talk_ to him now…._ Suddenly he stilled. Of course! Why didn't they think of it before!

"Harry and Dobby are the only ones who know what this is about," he said aloud. "Dobby can't talk, but Harry might be able to….if Ivy could reach him."

"I don't think it's possible," Lily retorted immediately. "She tried to reach Severus repeatedly, but without success."

"His version of Living Death might not affect rigor mortis, but in any other respect I bet it's what it sounds like. Ivy couldn't reach his dreams because he doesn't dream," Sirius dismissed. "But Harry _might_!"

"No! I won't allow it!" Lily's lips were trembling and her eyes welling, but she looked determined. "And don't glare at me like that, Sirius! Ivy is only fifteen. Last time she entered Harry's dream they dimension-travelled! And now he is likely affected with some of the darkest magic in existence! Can you guarantee that she won't get contaminated by whatever has cursed him? Or trapped in his dream and never wake? Or pulled to another Universe? She is neither an Order member, nor an adult! You can't expect me to let her fight dark arts!"

Sirius looked at her incredulously.

"Ivy sees Harry as her brother," he said quietly. "She would want to help, surely?"

"It's not her decision. And don't think you can circumvent me! I will feed her the Dreamless Sleep potion every night, if I have to! I would rather risk addiction than her life!"

"And if he dies, Lily? Do you think she'll forgive you?"

Lily was crying in earnest now.

"I'll risk even that. I won't risk her life."

Sirius was staring resentfully at the fireplace where everyone but James and the unconscious Harry had finally disappeared. Without turning he knew that James was sitting on the bed beside Harry, his balled hands pressed to his forehead.

"Why didn't you say something?" Sirius demanded harshly.

"What could I possibly say, that hadn't been said already? Besides, Lily has never listened to me."

"You could have_ tried_. How can she just… In Harry's world both of you had given your lives for him! Doesn't it count for something?!"

"What do you think?"

Sirius rounded on him.

"I don't fucking _know_ what to think, James! You…You are sitting here, counting his heartbeats! And what is Lily doing? Preparing dinner for that snakeling?"

James looked up at him, and Sirius's heart twisted at the pain he saw in his eyes.

"Ah, but it is different for me, Padfoot. He is a living and breathing manifestation of everything I wanted once upon a time. And the best part of it is that I can still claim him as mine, well, I could, if he'd let me, and I can love him, and it won't affect what Fleur and I have, won't make me love our child any less…My loyalties aren't divided… But for Lily… Harry is an embodiment of her husband worst fears. And now her husband lies in coma, her daughter might be in danger and under suspicion… There _are_ sides for her in this. And just as she died for Harry in his word, she'd die for her kids here."

"All the same," Sirius said mulishly, "how can she just… abandon him like that?! I—"

"No parent can be forced to choose between their kids, and stay sane," James interjected quietly. "It is just as well that she doesn't see Harry in that light."

Abruptly Sirius strolled to the window and waived it open wandlessly, the manor as always being attuned to his wishes. He gulped the humid evening air hungrily.

"I may not have kids," he said softly without turning, "but I too know something about choices."

"Oh, Siri, you know more than most anyone about choices…" the bed squeaked, as James rose, he came up to Sirius and enveloped him in a hug. That was so unprecedented that for a moment Sirius tensed in his embrace. For all that they had been closer than brothers for decades, they have never been this demonstrative… But it was James, and Sirius relaxed.

"You weren't yet twelve, when you chose … essentially _me_ over your family. And I was too young and too stupid to realise the ramifications of that choice. Hell, I was too stupid to realise there _was_ a choice. But you knew what it meant, and you stuck with me through thick and thin, no matter the cost. And in that other world it cost you _everything_."

"You would have done the same for me."

"I would have, but somehow I was never called to. In either world, it seems. I have always kept that mirror on me so that I could come if you needed me. And it has always helped to know that if I did something stupid, got cursed or something, as long as I had enough breath to say your name you'd come to me. I never used it when I was away because I was afraid I'd succumb to the temptation and return and… become a nuisance…"

"You could still use it."

"So could you. But you always knew when I needed space, or a shoulder to cry on, or a whack on the head, as the case may be…"

Finally Sirius turned and looked at him.

"You have never cried on my shoulder, Jamie."

James's face worked.

"I might yet," he whispered.

Suddenly Dotty appeared in the doorway.

"Master, Mr. Mark Snape is wanting to see you."

Sirius exchanged a puzzled look with James.

"Get him over here," he ordered.

A tall jeans-and-tee-clad auburn-haired teen entered the bedroom. His posture was tense and his emerald eyes (Harry's eyes!) were guarded as they swept the room and zeroed on Harry. As always when Sirius saw Lily's son he marvelled at his unbelievable luck at the genetic sweepstakes. All he'd got from Snivelly look-wise was Snape's narrow, long-fingered aristocratic hands, the only good feature the git possessed; everything else was pure Lily. The boy stared at his quasi sibling a fraction too long, before finally recalling his surroundings and addressing Sirius with rigid formality.

"Thank you for receiving me, Mr. Black."

Sirius nodded impatiently.

"I figured it has something to do with Harry here."

"Yes," Mark tapped his fingers nervously on a thick leather-bound volume he held. "I think, well, I _hope_, I could help with eh, getting into his dreams."

"You a Dreamdrifter too?" James asked sceptically.

"Uh, no. Even in the Prince family they were born once in blue moon. And I can't help with getting Ivy to do it, because for one, Mom only told me what'd got her into the state on the condition that I wouldn't tell Ivy. So I had to give my word. And besides, I think she's right, Ivy is underage, and stuff. But I am an adult!" he looked at the older men defiantly, as if expecting them to object.

"We need a Dreamdrifter, not an adult," Sirius said bluntly.

"When I tuned seventeen Father gave me a key to the Prince Vault," Mark continued disregarding Sirius's rejoinder. "He keeps all the … dodgy stuff there, you know."

"I didn't, but I can't say I am surprised," Sirius couldn't help commenting.

"Shut up, Sirius. This tome you are clutching is from there, then?" James prompted.

"Yes. Like I said, not every Prince was born with the family gift, but most of them had been fascinated with the dream-related stuff. There is a few generations worth of research on the subject in that vault… It seems some of my ancestors were able to devise a ritual that allows even a non-drifter enter a person's dreams, provided that at least two close relatives of the said person form a three-way blood bond with the Dreamer. Then that person – they call them an Envoy – enters on of the Anchors' mind through Legillimency, and slips from there to a Dreamer's mind. I have the family codex with all the necessary instructions… " Mark seemed somewhat uneasy about the whole thing. "I am sure Father would have given it to Ivy, but as she's kept her gift secret…"

"You mean, you can send me to Harry's dreams with the help of the ritual?" James asked eagerly.

"No, I'll have to form a blood bond with you—and Harry— so that someone else could be sent. Mr. Black, won't mind being the Envoy, I suppose? And you could trust him to enter your mind?"

"It's James and Sirius since we are all adults here," James smiled. "And Sirius and I are actually related, so I think—"

"Uh, no. We are already taking certain risks because of the whole different universes factor. I believe the two Anchors have to be as closely related to Harry as possible. And before you say anything about Mom's involvement," the boy frowned at Sirius, "she doesn't know about the ritual and doesn't know I am here. And in any case, it would be more than a little awkward if she were to form a blood bond with Mr. Pot—, with James."

"Hmm… I'd like to know a bit more about possible risks for the Envoy. And about those bonds as well, for that matter…."

"You can skip the Envoy-related risks," Sirius interjected. "I am doing it."

"I don't _know_ what the risks are for the Envoy. It's basically the same deal as with Ivy: because Harry is from a different world and is cursed with something really nasty, we simply cannot calculate how all that might affect you if you were to go. As for the bond, it's just your basic blood alliance thing, except we would be using it for a specific purpose. I am good at Runes so I am fairly confident I'll get it right. And it won't affect me in quite the same way it would Mom…"

James looked at the boy incredulously.

"You think you can enter into a blood alliance with me without it affecting you any?!"

"Of course not! But surely you can see that it would be most improper for Mom—"

"Yes, yes! But, Mark, a blood-alliance is… You must know it would have some serious consequences for you! I could start a war and demand your allegiance."

"So could I," the teen pointed out. "It goes both ways."

"Yes, but… Look, don't take it the wrong way… I don't think I am any better than you for being a pureblood. But it's no use denying that I've more leverage socially. I _could_ start a war or, at any rate, a political campaign tomorrow. And you won't be able to, for at least a few years yet…"

The boy regarded James steadily.

"But aren't we already at war Mr. … uh, James?" he nodded at Harry's motionless body. "And aren't we already allied?"

"I suppose, we are," James smiled. "Well, if you are sure, there's no time like present. Although… I don't understand why Harry rather then Sirius would need Anchors? I mean, Sirius will be taking most risks…"

Mark shrugged.

"I can't claim to understand all the theory involved. But the ritual was originally devised to enter the dreams of someone who is already in a fragile state, like you know, coma... not necessarily curse-induced. And mind invasions would normally mean some additional strain on the system, so a Dreamer would need some steadying from their close kin, I guess. Besides without the different universe factor, risks for an Envoy are minimal. Well, without the Dark Lord's involvement too."

"Ya-da-da-da-di-da," Sirius huffed impatiently. "We are not writing a bloody essay on magical theory, James. Let's do it already."

As they started to set up the groundwork for the ritual, Sirius saw that Mark's claim to being good at Runes was by no means an empty boast. He fully expected that he himself together with James would have to do the bulk of the preparations, but the teen performed his part with easy confidence. Using his Touch to heal the two Anchor's cuts Sirius watched bemused as they mingled their blood. Amazing. It would be well worth it, to wake up Snape just see his face when he'd learn that his firstborn was now blood-allied to James Potter.

Finally all the runes were drawn and everything was set.

"Well," James smiled a very Harry-like crooked smile. "Ready, Pads?"

"Yes, I am. Legilimens!"


End file.
